Page 34 of Madness

"You okay?" he asks softly, breaking the silence.

I take a shaky breath, considering the question. Am I okay? Shannon's gone. I'm facing truly single motherhood with no support, nursing school, and financial struggles. And Dakota... Dakota will be leaving soon, too. "I don't know," I admit finally. "It doesn't feel real yet. Shannon's always been here, you know? And now..."

"Now you're facing a lot of changes," Dakota finishes for me, his voice laced with understanding and something else – regret, maybe?

I nod, turning to look at him. In the dim light of the living room, his eyes are dark, intense. They draw me in, making me forget, just for a moment, about all the complications in our lives. "Dakota, I?—"

But before I can finish, his lips are on mine. The kiss is gentle at first, comforting, but it quickly deepens. I respond eagerly, weeks of pent-up emotion and desire pouring out. My hands find their way into his hair, soft strands slipping through my fingers as I pull him closer.

Dakota groans softly, the sound sending heat coursing through me. His hands slip under the hem of my shirt, warm against my skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I arch into his touch, wanting – needing more.

We break apart, both breathing heavily. Dakota rests his forehead against mine, his eyes searching my face. "Lauren," he says, his voice rough with desire but tinged with concern. "Are you sure about this? With everything going on..."

For a moment, reality intrudes. Roman sleeping just down the hall. Dakota leaving for tour soon. The mountain of changes I'm facing. The potential heartbreak looming on the horizon. But looking into Dakota's eyes, seeing the care, the want, the vulnerability there, I make my decision.

I silence him with another kiss, softer this time, pouring all my complicated emotions into it. "I'm sure," I whisper against his lips. "I need this. I need you."

That's all the encouragement Dakota needs. In one fluid motion, he lifts me onto his lap. I straddle him, reveling in the feeling of his strong thighs beneath me, the heat of him pressed against me. As we kiss again, more urgently this time, I'm acutely aware of every point where our bodies connect.

As things heat up between us, a small voice in the back of my mind reminds me of the potential consequences. Are we moving too fast? What if Roman wakes up? What will this mean for us when Dakota leaves?

But for now, I push those thoughts aside. Tonight, I just want to feel. I want to lose myself in Dakota's touch, in the way he makes me feel wanted, cherished, and alive. Tomorrow, I'll face reality. But tonight... tonight is ours.

And as Dakota's hands roam my body, as our kisses grow more heated, I know that whatever comes next, this moment – complicated and messy as it may be – is exactly what I need.

Dakota's hands glide up my sides, taking my shirt with them. I lift my arms, allowing him to pull it off. His eyes roam over me, filled with awe and desire.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, leaning in to trail soft kisses along my collarbone.

I shiver at his touch, my fingers working to unbutton his shirt. As I push it off his shoulders, I take in the sight of his toned chest, and the tattoos that decorate his skin. I trace them with my fingertips, feeling the slight raise of the ink.

Our lips meet again, deeper this time. Dakota's hands find the clasp of my bra, and he looks at me questioningly. I nod, and he gently removes it. His touch is reverent as he explores my newly exposed skin.

I grind against him, feeling his arousal through his jeans. He groans softly, his hands moving to my hips to guide my movements. The friction is delicious, but I want more.

"Bedroom," I breathe against his ear.

Dakota stands, lifting me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me down the hall, careful not to make noise as we pass Roman's room.

In my bedroom, he lays me gently on the bed. We take our time undressing each other, pausing to kiss and caress newly revealed skin. When we're finally bare before each other, Dakota hovers over me, his eyes searching mine.

"Are you sure?" he asks again, his voice tender.

In response, I pull him down for a kiss. "I'm sure," I murmur against his lips.

As Dakota enters me, a flood of sensations washes over me. The stretch, the fullness, the warmth of his skin against mine - it's overwhelming in the best way. But it's more than just physical. There's an emotional intensity that takes my breath away.

For a moment, we're still, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same breath. I open my eyes to find Dakota watching me, his gaze so tender it makes my heart ache. In his eyes, I see desire, yes, but also understanding, care, and something deeper that I'm not ready to name.

"Lauren," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. His hand cups my cheek, thumb gently stroking my skin. "You feel like coming home."

The words hit me hard, bringing tears to my eyes. Home. It's been so long since I've felt that sense of belonging, of rightness. And now, with Shannon gone and everything changing, I need this more than ever.

We begin to move together, finding a gentle rhythm. Dakota's touches are reverent, as if he's committing every inch of me to memory. His calloused fingertips, a testament to years of playing bass, trail fire across my skin. I run my hands along his back, feeling the play of muscles, tracing the lines of the tattoo I know spans his shoulders - a phoenix rising from the ashes, a symbol of his own rebirth.

Our pace gradually increases, but it never loses that sense of tenderness. The room fills with the sound of our ragged breathing, soft moans, and the whisper of skin against skin. The scent of Dakota's cologne mingles with the heat of our lovemaking, creating an intoxicating mix.

As we near the edge, Dakota's hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. "Look at me," he murmurs, and I do, locking eyes with him as pleasure builds. In that moment of connection, I feel seen, truly seen, in a way I haven't in years.

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