Chapter 24 Feeling her 💦

Chapter 24 Feeling her 💦
Daniel’s POV

The bedroom is dim, late-afternoon sun leaking through the edges of the blinds in thin, lazy bars of gold. Nora is still sprawled across the mattress. Her face half-buried in the pillow, one leg hooked crookedly over the sheet, her breathing slow and deep. Her hair is a wreck,strands plastered to her damp neck, the messy bun from the morning long gone. There are faint red marks left on my fingers on her hips earlier.
She looks wrecked.
Beautifully, thoroughly wrecked.
And I did that. I did that to her.The memory is still so fresh, the way she clenched around my cock till she came–hard, shuddering, her nails driving into my shoulders while she sobbed my name like it was the only word she remembered.

I kept going. Kept thrusting until she was trembling, oversensitive, begging me to stop and keep going in the same broken breath. When I finally let myself finish–deep, pulsing, filling her until my sperm leaked out around me. I thought my heart might actually stop.I’ve never come inside anyone bare before.
Never wanted to.
Until her.
I’m still staring at her sleepy face. Then Pickles chooses that exact second to lose his fucking mind. Sharp, frantic bark echoes from the hallway, followed by paws scrabbling on hardwood and another round of barking like the house is under siege.
Nora startles awake with a tiny, sleepy gasp.“Pickles…?” she mumbles, her voice lazy and her eyes barely open.
Another bark.
Louder. More demanding.
I press a kiss to her forehead–soft, lingering then ease myself off the bed. “Stay. I’ve got him.”She makes a small, contented sound and rolls onto her stomach, hugging the pillow. “Okay…”

I yanked my sweatpants back up and walked barefoot into the hallway. Pickles is in full crisis mode in front of the kitchen doorway with his tail wagging, ears pinned back, barking at nothing like he’s personally offended by the concept of an empty food bowl.“Easy, bud,” I mutter, crouching to scratch behind his ears. He immediately switches to happy whining, pressing his whole eighty-pound body against my legs like I’ve been gone for years. “You’re dramatic.”He looks toward his bowl, looks back at me expectantly, then barks again.
Right.
Food.
I glance at the clock on the wall as I follow him.
It's 4:52 p.m. We slept through the entire goddamn afternoon away.
Shit.
“Sorry, Pickles. I'll be right back.” I told Pickles as I ran to my office while he barked behind me fiercely like he's telling me to come back and feed him.
I detoured to my office first. The laptop is still open from last night; I wake the screen.The email is already there, subject line screaming in all caps:
BOARD OF DIRECTORS – URGENT: FORMAL INTERVIEW REQUEST
Date: Tomorrow, 10:00 a.m.
Location: H&P Headquarters, 47th Floor.
They attached the agenda. Legal representation clause. Confidentiality reminder. The whole corporate guillotine package.
My pulse kicks up hard. They didn’t even give me twenty-four hours.I’m still staring at the screen when my phone vibrates across the desk.
Rossa.
I answer on the second ring.“Mr. Hawthorne.” Her voice is clipped, efficient, but I can hear the worry underneath. “Have you seen your email?”
“Just now.”A short pause.
“They’re not wasting time.”
“No. They’re not.”Another pause. “Do you want me to call the lawyers early?”
“Not yet.” I rub my thumb hard between my brows. “Get the car ready for nine tomorrow morning. Black suit, no tie. And book a table for two tonight in my favorite restaurant. Private room. Back entrance. Eight-thirty.”
“Done.” I hear her typing already. “Anything else?”I glance toward the kitchen where I can hear the faint clink of a bowl hitting the floor.
“That’s all for now.”
She hesitates. “Sir… you sound different.”I almost laugh.“I am different,” I say quietly. “Thanks, Rossa.”I say and hang up.When I step into the kitchen, Nora is standing at the counter in nothing but on my old gray T-shirt–hem skimming the very tops of her thighs. No bra. No panties. Just smooth legs, the faint look of her nipples against the cotton, and the messy aftermath of what we did earlier still visible in the flush on her cheeks and along her inner thighs.
My cock goes from half-hard to hard in one moment.
She’s pouring cereal into Pickles’ bowl. He’s already attacking it like he hasn’t eaten in days. She glances over her shoulder, catches me staring, and smiles–slow and sleepy, a little shy.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” My voice is low.She sets the cereal bag down, wipes her hands on the hem of the shirt–flashing a glimpse of the curve of her ass and turns to face me fully.“Pickles was losing his mind. I figured he was starving.” She shrugs one shoulder. “I dragged myself out of bed. Barely.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I rushed down to check something.” I replied.
I cross the room in three strides. Stopping just short from her and close enough to smell the faint trace of my shampoo in her hair, the sex still clinging to her skin.“You look good in my shirt.”
Her cheeks turn pink.
“It was the closest thing I could get.”I reach past her, and place both hands on the counter so she’s caged between my arms. She tips her head back to meet my eyes.

“I booked us a table,” I told her. “Tonight. Eight-thirty. Private room.” Her brows lift. “A date?”
“A date.” I reply calmly back.
She searches my face closely. “With everything going on… you sure?”I nod once. “No press. No cameras. Back entrance. I’ve got it handled.”She bites her bottom lip–considering–then she smiles. “Okay.”
The relief hits harder than it should.I lean in, brush my lips against hers–soft at first, then deeper. She opens for me immediately. Her tongue sliding against mine, her hands coming up to fist my T-shirt. I slide one palm down her back, over the curve of her ass, then slap it–sharp, playful, just hard enough to make her gasp into my mouth.