All the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Castle, never will, and certainly have no chance of ever profiting from it.
Kitchen
"How much longer, Castle?" she asks from her countertop perch. "I'm getting hungry."
He looks up from the dish that he's tasting. "Well, you'll have to be patient," he smiles. "You can't rush perfection."
Patience is not one of her strong suits. A firm tug on his wrist pulls him squarely into the vee between her legs, and she relishes the sudden contact.
As her lips brush along his jawline, he warns gently, "It's going to burn."
"Let it." She nips at his earlobe and enjoys the way his hips jerk reflexively. "I never said I was hungry for food."