The Shimadas were a bit behind in the times, at least from his POV. They still held strong ties to things, enough to keep them respectable, but he had no interest in any of it. Hanzo, the eldest? He had to take interest. Perhaps that was all it took to separate him from his own brother. They both had 'honor' beaten into them, but only Hanzo had to follow it, in the end.

Though, honestly, the amount of trouble he'd get in for being here, in the kitchen, his face between the legs of a beautiful foreigner and employee of the house? Yeah, it might be a bit much later. Again, better to beg forgiveness, right?

it would only be slightly less trouble if he hauled her off to one of their rooms, really.

Another nip to her thigh, higher up now, and he could look up from this point, right up her black clad body and smile. His finger trailed over the triangle of purple covering her, almost petting the fabric as dark eyes focused on her face a moment... before he leaned in to let his tongue pointedly press in instead. If she saw, she might have seen a small green ball piercing in the center of his tongue, and if she didn't look? She'd feel it. His tongue rubbing over the fabric at first, teasing.

"That sweater is so revealing. It's a wonder you even need these." He said, and daringly leaned in firmly, nipping at the fabric to pull on it.

He's letting her keep track of time.