Each gentle touch, feather light as it was, still managed to draw all of his attention. There was something so decadent about the combination of those lips on his neck and the softly murmured instructions in his ear. If Essek reacted this way every time Molly cooked something xhorhasian it was going to make for some interesting associations.

Slowly he minced up more garlic and stripped the leaves from the rosemary, hands kept steady mostly by his own determination not to bleed all over everything and ruin the moment. Everything smelled faintly of that savory scent that would linger long after the meal was done.

"Better?" He asked, turning to catch Essek's lips in a kiss, wanting to catch a taste of him before the next judgement on the taste.