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When Katniss and I agreed to invite Haymitch over for dinner tonight, we didn’t anticipate him staying most of the night. I can usually tolerate extended exposure to Haymitch Abernathy better than Katniss can, but that wasn’t the case tonight, and it seems that Haymitch knew it. Words came easier for him than they normally did, and the weak glint in his eyes as he spoke told me that he just knew we were itching for him to leave. Every second of his visit that ticked by felt like a second wasted later. 

I couldn’t have asked him to leave, though. What would I have told him? “I’m sorry, Haymitch, but I’m planning on taking Katniss up to bed as soon as possible. Can you please leave now?” It didn’t matter if he already suspected that we wanted him to leave, and telling him why would never be an option. Neither would lying. You don’t lie to Haymitch. He sees right through it every time - and so we waited for him to get bored.

It was only after the large flask of white liquor had been completely drained that he finally tucked it back into his pocket, rose to his feet, and wished us a good night. 

Peering out the front window now, I watch as Haymitch stumbles back to his house and through the front door. I don’t allow myself to relax until his windows light up. That’s how I know he’s in his house for the night and won’t come bumbling back over to steal a bottle of liquor or ask us to help him with his geese. It doesn’t look like he’ll be tending to the geese at all tonight.

Finally,” I mutter to myself, turning the lock and smiling when I hear the loud click.

The sound of glass plates clattering turns my attention to Katniss at the sink gathering the dinner plates from where she left them drying. She arranges them by size, paying no attention to me as I walk toward her. There’s a sense of calm in the air since Haymitch left, but at the same time there’s something else. An underlying buzz that doesn’t need her attention to crackle between us. 

She clearly remembers the challenge she gave me earlier after she caught me in the kitchen and brought me to the brink with her mouth: “Now you can spend the evening trying to come up with a way to return the favor.” I’ve been playing her words back to myself from the moment she said them this afternoon up until I came up with a way to give myself the advantage in this game we play. 

In truth, nobody truly loses this game. It’s just a matter of who can show restraint the longest that determines who can gloat and who has to try harder next time. This afternoon, Katniss had me under her thumb, but tonight I plan to change that. Nevertheless, in the end, we both get what we want and the fun that we have together makes it that much better.

“Hey,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of Katniss’ head. I run my hand across her back from side to side, observing how her tense muscles relax under my touch. “Don’t worry about putting the dishes away tonight. There’s no rush, we can do that in the morning.” Dropping my head to her ear, I whisper, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Katniss stills next to me, inhaling deeply through her nose. She sets the stack of plates back down on the counter and nods. 

“No rush,” she agrees, stepping away from the sink. 

Neither one of us is eager to let the other see that getting upstairs to the bedroom is our only concern. But I can tell by the way Katniss moves with haste, gripping the railing and practically pulling herself up the stairs that she’s ready and waiting for me to make some kind of move. My attempts to remain aloof are far easier with Katniss several steps ahead of me. She’s probably expecting me to get right to it, knowing full well that I’ve been waiting for this just as long as she has. That’s not the plan tonight, though. I have something else in mind. 

Katniss is usually the first one rummaging through the dresser drawers for night clothes. Tonight, however, she looks at me as though to ask if she should even bother putting clothes on at all. I answer her by finding a pair of black and green flannel lounge pants and a white undershirt to change into.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” Katniss says, setting her pajamas on the end of the bed. 

“Okay,” I reply, keeping my tone even and amiable. 

She’s expecting too much right now. I imagine the relaxation that passed through her in the kitchen was all for nothing, and the choked muscles have returned, keeping her body on high alert for whenever I decide to spring the night's plans on her.  I know that this alone, this state of hyperawareness I’ve worked her into in just a matter of minutes without even trying, should be enough to consider the evening a success. But it’s not. I notice her lingering in the bedroom doorway like she’s waiting for me to start to follow her into the shower. 

“I’ll just wash up when you’re done.” Is the only thing I offer her.

Katniss leaves the room seeming a bit disappointed and I have to laugh at her a little. She thought this was going to be easier than I’ve made it, and it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet. 

While Katniss showers, I slip out of my clothes and put on my pajamas, deciding at the last minute to stay shirtless. I carry on with my routine as I do every night and climb into bed, grabbing my sketch pad and pencils from my bedside table and resume work on the sketch of the backyard I’ve been working on for the last few nights. It’s nothing special. Just a pencil sketch of what I see when I look out the back door. The sketching helps settle my mind before Katniss and I retire for the night. It doesn’t stop my own nightmares, but since I started, they seem to be easier to rouse myself from when they do hit. 

It’s not long before Katniss ambles back into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around her body. Her hair, wet hair twisted, hangs over her shoulder. I smile when I see the change in the way she moves now compared to before her shower. Her shoulders and face remain relaxed, and she walks toward the pile of clothing she’s left on the bed without looking at me with pause. Now’s the time to begin. 

“Come sit next to me for a minute,” I say, setting my sketch pad and pencils back on the table and sitting up. 

“I’m not dried off yet,” Katniss protests. “The sheets.” 

“I don’t care about the sheets.” I smile at her. “Come sit next to me.” 

I gently pat a spot on the bed next to me, leaving my hand there until Katniss sits down and curls her legs to the side, holding on to her towel tightly as she looks at me. Catching a droplet of water that cascades down her upper arm with the tip of my finger, I trail it up over her shoulder and across her chest. I idle there for just a second before moving my finger to her chin and tilting it upward. 

“Come closer,” I murmur, guiding her lips toward mine. I stop suddenly, hovering as closely as I can without making contact and grin. “We’re going to play a little game.” 

Katniss groans. “I should have known that was coming.” 

I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face knowing that for as much as she anticipated this before, I waited just long enough for her to let her guard down and relax a little.

“Do you want a kiss before we start?” I ask. “It was kind of mean of me to deny you like that after asking you to come over here in the first place. You can consider it a freebie.”

“No,” Katniss says adamantly. “I don’t want to kiss you that badly.”

“Are you sure?” I press. “You sounded pretty disappointed a minute ago.”

“Nope. I’m fine without your kisses.”

She has her arms crossed over her chest now, securing her towel to her and sending me a message that she’s ready to play along and that she’s not going to give in as easily as I may have hoped. I lick my lips, ready for the challenge, and lean back in. My lips are millimeters from Katniss’s again. 

“Suit yourself,” I say haughtily, settling back in against the pillows. “I’m not going to give away any more free kisses after this.”

Katniss narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t like the sound of this.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” I say, flashing an impish grin. “It’s a pretty simple game. All you have to do is ask me questions.”

“Questions..” Katniss repeats, sounding dubious. She leans in closer, clearly interested in what I’ve just suggested. “What kind of questions?”

“Well,” I start, shifting my body toward her. “I’ve had all night to think about how I wanted to return the favor tonight. I thought it might be fun if you asked me questions to figure it out.”

Fun?” Katniss asks. The unease is clear in her voice. 

I knew this would happen. If I’m being honest, it’s part of what helped me decide I wanted to play this game with her in the first place. Katniss tends to rely on letting her body talk for her. While it doesn’t bother me, it would be nice to hear her speak up more in the bedroom every now and then. And maybe it’s a bit cruel, but watching her wriggle around uncomfortably while she tries to string her words together is endearing to me in all the right ways.

“It’ll be fine, Katniss,” I assure her. For only a moment, I decide to drop the teasing tone. This won’t be enjoyable for either one of us if Katniss isn’t comfortable. “It’s only me.” 

This seems to relax her a little. She still looks at me with apprehension, her eyes flitting back and forth between my face and the mattress.

“Okay,” she says, breathing in deeply. “How do we start?”

“With the rules.”

I see Katniss’s face fall.

“There are rules, too?” She shifts, pulling her towel even tighter around her body. “Peeta, when I said think of a way to return the favor I didn’t mean this.”

“I promise it’s nothing difficult. Just hear me out,” I say soothingly, reaching out to rub her bare shoulder. Katniss looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. “There’s no limit to how many questions you ask. You can ask two questions or you can ask ninety two if you need that many, I’m not keeping count.”

“But..” Katniss says, waiting for the catch.

“But,” I smile playfully. “You cannot be vague. The more detail you provide, the more fun this will be.”

“There you go using that word again,” Katniss sighs. “Is that the only rule?”

“That’s the only rule,” I nod, watching as Katniss inhales deeply and prepares herself. “Ready?”

With her shoulders squared, Katniss looks me in the eyes and smiles nervously. 


I settle in, training my eyes on Katniss's face. The nervous smile that played on her lips just a second ago is gone and has been replaced by a slack jaw and vacant stare. She brings her hand to her mouth and begins to chew on her thumb nail as she tries to think of a question that’ll get the ball rolling.

"Are you.." She mumbles, hesitant to take her hand away from her mouth and look at me. Forcing her eyes to meet mine, she tries again. "Are you.. really making me do this?"

A deep laugh bursts out from my mouth and I nod, smiling sympathetically at Katniss while she stretches her legs out straight and nervously runs her hand up and down her calf. 

"Why?" She asks. 

There’s no insolence of any kind to be found in either her tone or on her face. Her eyebrows are knit together in confusion, not defiance, and her eyes search my face for some kind of answer that would help her understand how I could possibly think asking her to do something like this could be fun. There’s only one solution to this problem -- I have to make her understand. 

“Do you remember that one night last week?” I ask, extending my arm out, inviting Katniss to move in closer. I wait for Katniss to scoot over to me and curl up against my body before I wrap the same arm around her and pull her in. With her head now resting on my chest and her hand anxiously roaming between my shoulder and upper arm, I decide to continue. “When we were lying here, just like this, and I told you all about the different ways I wanted to make you come?”

Katniss’s hand stills on my shoulder. “Yes.”

“Do you remember how wet it made you?” I continue in just a whisper. “Remember how easily I slid my fingers into you after that? Remember how good it felt when I finally made you come exactly how I said I would?”

“Yes,” Katniss mutters again. 

“Do you know what else felt good?” I ask. “Knowing that I got you that wet, that ready, just by talking to you. It almost felt better than being inside you.” My fingers toy with the slit the edges of her towel create, gently tickling the delicate skin of her thighs. “That’s why.” 

Katniss pushes herself up, gripping her towel that still covers her body. She swallows hard and looks down at me with curious eyes. 

“How long have you been wanting me to do this?” She asks. 

“You’ve done it before,” I remind her. “I was just hoping for a little more detail this time.”

A coy smile springs to Katniss’s lips. “Does that..” she stammers briefly before clearing her throat. “Does that turn you on?”

“Does it turn you on when I do it?” I challenge. Katniss looks away and smiles again, making her answer very clear. “Then I guess you just answered your own question.” 

Katniss goes silent, concentration written all over her face. “Did you enjoy yourself in the kitchen earlier?” 

“What happened in the kitchen?” I ask, feigning innocence. Katniss narrows her eyes as though she’s irked. I try to smile at her in hopes that it’ll remind her that this is supposed to be fun, but I’m afraid she’s getting herself so worked up over what she’s going to ask that she’s going to forget that. I’m not even sure if she even believes that this can be fun, yet.

With a sigh, Katniss steels herself and tries again. 

“Did you like having my mouth on you in the kitchen earlier?” She asks, her voice deadpan and rushed. But before I can answer, she begins speaking again. “I liked it. I always like it. Feeling you get harder while I… suck on you.” 

Her voice sounds far away. Like she’s allowed herself to slip into a place in her mind that has been so closed off that she has to virtually disappear to find it. I reach my hand out and begin to pull her towel from around her body. Katniss removes her hands and lifts her arms, allowing the thick, cotton towel to slip down her body. I pull it away from where it pools at her legs, admiring the way her breasts rise and fall with each deep breath she takes. 

I’m already aching to touch her. Cup her breast, roll her slightly pebbled nipple between the pads of my fingers and listen to the way she responds, but I won’t. That would be too easy. Instead, it’s Katniss, who still seems to be lost in that uncharted sliver of her mind, that does the touching. 

She trails her hand down her chest, over her breasts, and down her stomach and stops just before she reaches the juncture of her thighs. 

“Do you want to touch me?” she asks, finally allowing her hand to disappear between her legs. 

I watch her fixedly, unable to see exactly what she’s doing but I know right away when she reaches the tender cluster of nerves with her fingers. Her thighs tighten around her hand, and with a sigh, she looks at me. “Do you like watching this?”

“I do,” I nod. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” she admits. “Your fingers. Rubbing me instead of doing it myself. I feel this shock when you touch me that I never get when I touch myself. Like I can’t control myself as long as you’re touching me.”

My mind wanders to thoughts of the warmth and wetness between Katniss’s legs. The way she writhes against my hand when I sweep my fingers over her clit, and the deep gasps she doesn’t even try to hide when my fingers are pushed against her walls, pressing on the spot deep inside her that causes her to come undone, destroying any reserves she has.

“Do you want to feel how wet this is making me?” Katniss’s voice breaks through my thoughts, forcing my attention back to her.

“More than feel,” I croak. 

I see her eyes widen with realization. “Do you want to taste me?” she asks. 

To my surprise, she pulls her hand from between her thighs and brings her fingers to my lips. I suck in her two fingers and swirl my tongue around them, groaning when my tongue picks up on the taste that I can only describe as Katniss. 

“That’s exactly what I want to do,” I murmur when she pulls her fingers from my mouth. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“I guess not,” Katniss admits, scooting down the mattress. She begins to lie down, but I stop her, pressing my hands against her shoulders to keep her upright. 

“Not like that tonight,” I tell her. 

Instead, it’s me that lies down, propping my head on one of the pillows and smiling at Katniss. We’ve done this a few times before, so Katniss isn’t confused when she notices the way I’ve situated myself on the bed. She moves without words or further questioning and crawls on top of me, settling down on my stomach. 

“Is it alright to kiss you?” She asks, ghosting her fingers across my torso. 

“Yes,” I nod. “You earned it.”

She crinkles her nose in distaste. “Oh, I have to earn kisses?” 

“Just for tonight,” I say. “As part of the game.”

For a second, it looks like she’s going to remain headstrong and shun the opportunity for a kiss, but she doesn’t. With a terse shake of her head, she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I open my mouth in hopes of deepening the kiss, but Katniss pulls away and smiles. 

“If I have to earn kisses tonight, the same should go for you, too,” she says, pressing her hands against my chest. “This might be your game, but don’t think you’re going to get away with doing nothing while I do all the work.”

A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth at her boldness. Katniss hates being at a disadvantage. Over the years, I’ve come to learn exactly how far I can push her before playfulness turns into anger. Tonight, I’ve got her at just the right combination of frustrated and aroused that she fights back with vivacious teasing that sends a flurry of warmth to break out across my body. 

“Get over here then,” I dare, brushing my hands across her thighs. “So I can work.” 

As Katniss moves further up my body, I take a chance and cup her breast in my palm, and when she leans low to brace herself, I take her nipple into my mouth for the briefest moment and then let go, allowing her to continue moving. She settles down high on my chest, pushing her knees over my shoulders and hesitates before settling into a kneeling position, her middle hovering close to my waiting mouth.

I’m just barely able to reach her like this. After craning my neck in attempts to begin and not being able to taste nearly as much of her as I’d like no matter how hard I try, I know I have to adjust the way I’m lying down if I want to save myself from a stiff neck in the morning. I almost laugh thinking of how I’d explain that one to Haymitch.

“Hold on tight,” I warn, hooking my arms around Katniss’s thighs and scooting downward, taking her with me.

Her hands drop to my head, the only place she can easily reach, and holds on until she’s forced to clutch my hair when I move abruptly again. She fists two particularly large tufts in her grasp while I situate our bodies sideways on the bed. 

“Ouch!” I laugh. “Are you trying to make me go bald?”

“You told me to hold on tight,” Katniss answers, her voice dripping with fake innocence. 

It did hurt, that wasn’t a lie, but the sensation didn’t register so much as pain as it sent a searing jolt of electricity straight to my groin. 

“You’re right. I did.” I shift again, purposefully clunky so Katniss will be forced to pull my hair again. I see her smile drop suddenly when the feeling she may fall hits her, and just as I’d hoped, her fists tighten around the hair in her hands again. I groan, but not in pain, and she knows it right away, because her thin, jaunty grin returns immediately. “Feel free to keep holding on,” I whisper.

I act without further conversation, tightening my hold around Katniss’s legs before burying my face between her thighs. I’ve been waiting all night to taste her, anticipating the unique tang that only seems to grow sweeter the more aroused she becomes. 

I catch Katniss’ eye for a moment. She’s looking down at me, watching my mouth as I lightly draw my tongue around her clit. Her breaths are growing irregular, and it’s clear she’s trying to keep any noises of satisfaction from slipping from her tongue. She’s challenging me again, urging me to cut out all the stops. 

With my thoughts concentrated on making her fall apart, my whole mouth envelopes her middle hungrily. I can’t stop the moan that escapes at the mere taste of her; so sweet already. I give every part of her equal attention now, using the softness of my tongue against her clit and then changing pace by thrusting it into her center and sucking.

Abandoning any sense of defiance she may have gone into this with, Katniss begins to respond. Her hands find mine gripping her thighs. She covers them, trailing her fingers across my hands and over my shoulders until her fingers are curled through my hair again and she’s pulling with a force that’s both firm and tender, but soon grows unbridled. 

And then she does it. Her hips begin to move, pressing her middle against my mouth so wholly that I can finally let go of her thighs to free my hands to explore. There’s nothing I wanted tonight more than this. All night, all I thought about was Katniss above me, her hips swirling against my mouth as she became so immersed in her pleasure that she forgot all about being self conscious. I groan against her, the vibration from my mouth making Katniss’s grip on my hair tighten even more and causing my cock to twitch. 

My hands start to roam. One cups her breast and teases her nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger while Katniss pulls her hands from my hair. She touches her own breast, then moves to her thigh where my other hand still resides. She stops to clasp it, throwing her head back and rolling her hips even harder, driving my tongue deep into her center.

Her whole body is wracked with tremors when she comes, and I continue to drink in every last drop of her sweet wetness greedily while her cries burn white hot in my ears. My cock, now hard and aching, throbs in response to each shock that rips through her trembling body. 

I have to laugh when, after her orgasm has stopped causing her body to jerk wildly above me, she throws herself back, lying flush against the length of my body, spent, her arousal leaving my chin and lips wet. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I ask, running my hand across her thigh.

“Yes,” she replies breathlessly.

“Good. Because we’re not done.” 

“Can I catch my breath first?” Katniss asks, a light laugh peaking at the end of her question. 

She seems a lot more relaxed now, and I plan to take advantage of the opportunity to tease her in return for the rest of the night. 

“Can I take that time to tell you how much I love how you taste?” I answer back. “I think I’d be completely content being between your legs all day.”

Katniss sits up, scooting back so her ass rests on my stomach and her legs are folded up on either side of me. “You must want me to do something for you now,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me. “You’re really laying it on thick right now.”

“Oh, come on,” I laugh, propping myself up with my elbows. “It’s pretty simple this time. I could do it myself, but it’d be a lot better if you did it for me.”

“Does it have anything to do with this?” she asks, reaching her hand back to cup the bulge in my pants. 

“Yeah,” I breathe, lifting my hips to press my cock against her palm. “Everything.”

“I can’t do much if you still have your pants on,” Katniss says, disappointed. She slides off of me and gets between my legs, setting her palms down on my thighs and bunching the fabric of my pants in her fists.

“That one only took you one question,” I smile. 

“You want me to take off your pants for you?” She smiles, still playing the game.

Just take them off,” I confirm. “Nothing else. I told you it was pretty simple.”

She looks at me with an amused grin and a wily twinkle in her eyes as she reaches her hands up to the waistband of my pants. She doesn’t waste her time, though I didn’t expect her to. She already had this in mind long before I did. Just as I’d hoped, she pulls the pants from my waist desperately, reaching in to pull my cock out before she advances past my hips and thighs. She works them all the way down, careful not to snag them on the seam of my prosthetic, and pulls them off, abandoning them in a heap at the edge of the bed. 

And then she’s on me in an instant with her mouth poised less than an inch away from my cock. Even quicker, she slips the head into her mouth and sucks, swirling her tongue around it once. My hiss morphs into a laugh when I realize that she’s still doing everything she can to fight me for power.

It’s a good move, but it doesn’t work. I grab her arms and pull her down on top of me, wrapping my arms around her to keep her from squirming away. 

“You did a good job,” I murmur. I turn to my side, flipping Katniss over onto her back, holding her arms above her head. “One last round and that’s it.”

“More questions?” Katniss asks, trying to free her arms from my grasp. 

“No,” I answer, a smile evident in my tone. “We’re done with questioning.”

I bow my head down, pressing my lips to the warm skin of her neck and kiss a line up to her ear. “I’m going to let go of your arms,” I whisper. “Don’t move.”

We stare at each other as my fingers loosen and fall from her wrists. I wait to see if she tries to move before resuming. When she merely stares at me, daring me to make my next move, I push myself down her body. 

“You really caught me off guard this afternoon,” I say, slipping my head between her breasts, licking the space between them and kissing the side of the soft swell. “I liked it, but you know I had to one up you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Katniss says, shifting on her side just enough to cause my lower half to drop between her legs, trapping my cock between our bodies. I resist the urge to make a sound to let her know that it’s getting to me. “Return the favor doesn’t mean one up me.”

“That’s exactly why I had to,” I laugh. My tongue finds her nipple, and I just barely run the tip of it over the nub while squeezing her breast in my palm at the same time. Her hands drops from above her head in attempts to guide my mouth closer to her nipple, but I stop her. Grabbing her wrists with both hands, I place her arms back above her head and look up at her. “No hands,” I instruct. 

I hear Katniss sigh. I think she finally realizes what I’m trying to do. 

“Just let me know when you’ve had enough of this,” I explain even though I know she won’t give in this easily. I pull myself up and off of her, sitting back on my haunches. “All you have to do is tell me what you want and we’re done.”

For a fleeting moment, I think she might actually do something other than resist. Her eyes begin to travel the length of my body, halting when she reaches my cock. 

Knowing that she’s watching, waiting for my next move, I take myself in my hand and make sure she’s still looking as I begin to slowly draw my hand up my length. Her eyes dart away, and she looks back up at me, her eyes scanning my face as though she’s waiting for me to concede, and  I return her gaze, making it clear that there will be no reneging tonight.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I remind her in a whisper.

Katniss fights me for what feels like hours. I nip at her collarbone, lick and suck on her stomach, blowing on the moistened parts of her skin and watching the small pebbles form under my ministrations, but nothing seems to be enough to ignite her body to the point where she can’t possibly stay silent any longer until I push two fingers inside her and curl them just enough to press against her wall, forcing her hips to leave the mattress. 

I have to hide the smile that threatens to take over my face while I admire her response. I see her fists clench and release as she tries desperately to keep them above her head, but they come crashing down against the mattress, pawing at the sheets more and more the longer I work her with my fingers. 

“Peeta,” she pants, writhing underneath me, finally giving in. “Peeta, make me come. Please.”

At her request, my fingers take on a new cadence, switching from a gentle rubbing to a rapid tapping against her upper wall. Her response is immediate, urgent. All of the muscles in her body seem to relax all at once as she lets her guard down and the last ounces of fight drain from her limbs. 

Her legs fall open, granting me easier access to press against her wall with a pressure that she seems to welcome easily, and I can tell by the way her breathing deepened that she’s about to hit her peak.

My cock aches just looking at her. Her breasts, rising and falling under the harshness of her breathing. Her nipples, firm and dark. If she weren't so close to coming I'd stop to take one in my mouth. Tease it with the softened tip of my tongue, nip at it gently with my teeth. Her hands are still caught up in the sheets, twisting and pulling at them. Her eyes are shut so tightly, as if the sheets are the last place she wants her hands to be. As her body finally seizes and her moans ring sharply though the room, the tremors in her body have barely even ceased when words that I rarely ever hear from her fall from her lips.

"Fuck... me," she gasps.

I don't hesitate. I don't stop to ask her to repeat what she said for fear that it'll break this moment of euphoria she seems to have slipped into. I simply grab her leg with one hand and my cock with the other and push myself into her, groaning at the warmth and wetness that envelops me, dulling the ache that has been persistently gnawing at me just enough for me to enjoy this. Enjoy how wet she is, how gone she is, how she looks up at me, her legs tucked snugly under my arms. Just enough to enjoy the noise she makes when I begin to move inside her. A moan sweeter than the first sounds of life after the harshest of winters. 

And then she’s begging me to go deeper. Her hands frantically roam my chest, nails scoring my skin, legs wrapping around my waist to pull my hips in closer. I drop my head, finally able to reach her nipple and take it into my mouth, wetting the nub with my tongue and snagging it between my teeth. 

My mouth drifts over Katniss’ burning skin, dropping wet kisses over every inch that I can reach before settling at her mouth. I slip my tongue past her lips and lightly caress the top of her tongue, allowing her to do the same in return after I’ve pulled away. I can feel my release building deep in my stomach. I thrust harder, faster, desperate to feel relief wash over me.

When Katniss's walls begin to clench around my cock and her body arches off the bed in delirious bliss, the room slips from my vision and a satisfying numbness flows through my body, right down to the tips of my toes just before my orgasm surges through me. With my head burrowed in the crook of Katniss’ neck, I nip and suck at the skin as I spill into her. 

I settle in on my side of the bed, propping my head up on my hand and I look at Katniss. Her hair, now dry, is in disarray, and her breathing is still coming in ragged gasps. 

“You tired?” I laugh, moving in to kiss her neck again. 

“Yeah,” she says, sitting up and relaxing against the headboard. She tries to run her fingers through her knotted hair, but ends up settling for gathering it in her hands and twisting it over her shoulder. “A little hungry, too.”


Katniss nods emphatically, pulling the covers over her body as I slip from the bed and exit the room. Just as I reach the first step, I hear Katniss calling from the bedroom.

“Chocolate chip if we have any left!”

I shake my head as I descend the stairs, pleased to hear the easygoing tone of her voice. I’m reminded of our conversation yesterday. She sounded so composed and sure of herself when she admitted she’s thought about getting married, and tonight I got Haymitch’s blessing. A rush of excitement runs through me at the thought. Now, all I need is the ring.