CHAPTER 256: DON’T STOP

Daniel’s breath slid over her lips—warm, teasing, impossibly gentle.

Anna felt her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. Her fingers curled lightly against his shirt, more out of instinct than intention, as if her body needed something solid to anchor itself to.

"Anna..." he murmured again, her name falling from his lips like a caress. "Look at me."

She lifted her eyes.

The moment their gazes locked, something inside her trembled. The intensity in Daniel’s eyes was overwhelming—heat, tenderness, longing all tangled together, aimed entirely at her.

Slowly, deliberately, his hand slid from her waist up to her ribcage, resting just beneath her arm—not inappropriate, but close enough to make her breath falter.

Her eyelashes fluttered.

Daniel’s lips hovered a hair’s breadth from hers. "If this is too much..."

"It’s not," she whispered, surprising both of them.

His fingers tightened—just slightly—at her waist.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips along her cheek first. A slow, sensual trail that made her knees weaken. Anna’s breath caught as he moved to the corner of her mouth, pausing there with exquisite restraint.

He wasn’t rushing.

He was savoring.

Letting anticipation build until it almost broke her.

Her lips parted a little—just enough for him to feel her breath.

Daniel exhaled softly, his forehead resting against hers for a moment, grounding them both.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against her skin.

Anna’s fingers tightened in his shirt. "Daniel..."

That was all he needed.

His lips finally brushed hers—soft at first, like a question. Like a promise he wasn’t sure he should keep.

Anna inhaled sharply, leaning into him, her body answering for her.

Daniel deepened the kiss just a little, one hand rising to cradle the back of her head, his thumb brushing her jaw with reverent tenderness. The other remained at her waist, anchoring her, pulling her closer in a slow, intimate press of warmth.

The whisk clattered from her hand onto the counter, forgotten.

Her arms slid around his neck, drawing him nearer with a need she didn’t even know she possessed.

The kiss grew warmer—still gentle, still controlled, but undeniably hungry. Every slow movement of his lips made her melt further against him, and Daniel responded with a soft, raw sound that sent a shiver through her entire body.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips lingered just above hers, breathing mingling.

Her chest rose and fell against his.

Daniel smiled—barely there, soft and possessive. "If this is what happens when you enter the kitchen... I might ask you to cook every day."

Anna’s face flushed, but her breathless laugh made Daniel dip forward and steal another small, tender kiss from her lips—quick but intoxicating.

"Daniel..." she whispered, still dazed.

He trailed his knuckles along her cheek. "Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. I’ll forget the cookies completely."

Her heart fluttered uncontrollably.

But Daniel wasn’t finished.

He brushed his lips along her jaw, slow and warm. "And then I’ll have an entirely different appetite to worry about."

Anna’s breath caught again—deep, hot, wanting—but Daniel stopped just shy of crossing the line, pulling back with a wicked, knowing smile.

He wanted her.

But he wanted her consent, her comfort, her readiness even more.

"Shall we... finish baking?" he murmured, voice still thick with heat.

Anna nodded, but her fingers stayed on his chest for a long moment—unwilling to let go.

Daniel covered her hand with his, squeezing gently.

And together—flustered, breathless, deeply aware of each other—they turned back toward the cookie dough... though neither was thinking about cookies anymore.

Daniel stayed close—too close for Anna’s breathing to calm, too close for her thoughts to settle. His hands guided hers toward the bowl of cookie dough, but the moment his fingers laced with her own again, Anna knew neither of them cared about baking anymore.

The warmth of his chest brushed her back.

His breath ghosted the curve of her neck.

And every accidental touch set her nerves alight.

She swallowed hard, lifting the whisk again.

"T-This much flour..." she murmured, voice trembling.

Daniel hummed behind her, a low sound that vibrated through her spine. "Hmm. Are you asking me... or trying to convince yourself?"

Her cheeks flamed. "I—I’m focusing."

"Are you?" His breath drifted along her ear. "Because all I can feel is how fast your heart is beating."

Anna froze.

She didn’t even realize he had placed his palm flat over her stomach—light, almost innocent—but firm enough to feel her uneven breaths.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Daniel..." she whispered.

He didn’t remove his hand.

Instead, he slowly slid it upward—only a little—his thumb brushing the side of her ribs, right under her arm, close enough to make her shiver but not crossing the line.

"Relax," he murmured again, his voice deep, gentle, dangerously coaxing. "I won’t touch you where you don’t want me to."

Her breath hitched.

"But..."

His lips brushed just below her ear, a soft, fleeting kiss that sent heat spiraling through her.

"You’re trembling again."

She turned her head slightly, just enough to look at him over her shoulder. When their eyes met, the kitchen felt too small, too hot, too intimate.

Daniel’s gaze dropped to her lips.

Slowly.

Intentionally.

As if he wanted her to notice.

Anna’s breath quickened, and without thinking, she leaned back a fraction—her spine brushing his chest, her shoulder fitting perfectly against him.

His hand tightened on her waist.

Not harsh.

Not demanding.

But possessive.

Protective.

Certain.

"Anna..." he whispered, voice rougher now. "If you keep moving like that, I’m going to forget we’re standing next to an open flame."

Her cheeks burned, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

He let the whisk slip from her fingers with a soft clink and lifted her hand instead, turning her fully within the circle of his arms.

Anna gasped softly as her back met the counter and Daniel braced one hand beside her, caging her gently. His other hand rested on her waist, thumb stroking slow circles that made her knees weak.

"You really made all of this... for me?" he asked, voice slipping into something husky, intimate.

Her breath shook. "I—I wanted to."

His forehead lowered to hers. "Why?"

Anna opened her mouth but no words came.

Daniel tilted her chin up with the faintest touch of his fingers. "Tell me."

"I wanted to take care of you," she whispered, heat pooling in her cheeks.

Daniel exhaled sharply—like her words struck him somewhere deep. His thumb traced her lower lip slowly, his eyes darkening, softening, pulling her in.

"I’ve never needed anything more," he murmured.

Her heart stuttered.

And then—Daniel leaned in and kissed her again.

This kiss was different.

Slower. Deeper. Hungrier.

His fingers slid into her hair, angling her head as he pulled her closer, tasting her with a quiet intensity that made her toes curl.

Anna’s hands gripped his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as her breath hitched, as warmth coiled through her body.

Daniel pressed closer—careful but firm—his chest flush against hers, his breath unsteady against her lips as he deepened the kiss further.

He broke away only when they both needed air, his lips brushing her cheek, trailing down to her jaw with lazy, reverent affection.

"Anna..." he whispered against her skin, voice trembling slightly, "I want you"

She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Instead, her fingers slid up his chest, curling at his collar.

"Don’t stop," she breathed.

Daniel’s eyes closed for a moment as if steadying himself—then opened with a heat that made her forget the burning steak, the cookies, the world.

His lips found hers again—slow, sensual, dangerously tender—as the kitchen filled with warmth that had nothing to do with the stove.