Author's note: Thank you to everyone who's supporting me and this story! And papofglencoe, thank YOU! Not only for being an amazing beta, but for being a huge support in this, and other things.

Sexual situations and explicit language in this chapter.

"What's with the sour face?"

Apparently my attempt at looking indifferent doesn't come off the way I want it to.

"I'm not."

"Good. Because from the looks of it, you had a very nice evening." I want to wipe the grin off his face, but at the same time I don't want to indulge him by acknowledging his comment.

"Is Sanders around?" I say, trying to spot him somewhere behind Haymitch, standing on my toes.

"So, you're going with the 'I'm-going-to-pretend-I-didn't-hear-you' strategy. Not your strong suit, sweetheart," he says, slowly shaking his head, his stupid grin still etched on his face.

"Oh, I heard you. I'm just ignoring it," I deadpan and try to put on a neutral face, but judging by my previous attempt, I'm not successful.

"Come on, humor me. Consider it payment for watching your dog."

"And here I was, thinking you did that from the goodness of you heart." I could try to get out of it, but I know I'm fighting a losing battle. He's gonna make me spill the beans. "Okay, I met a guy."

He claps his hands together and starts rubbing them. "Oh, goodie." He gestures for me to come inside. I reluctantly oblige and walk by him. I'm surprised when I enter the kitchen to see that he actually has done the dishes. Sanders is lying on the floor, and he raises his head when I come in, but stays down.

I shoot him a glance. "Don't get up on my account."

"So why is it such a bad thing that you met a boy?" Haymitch cuts right to the chase as soon as we sit by the table and he's poured himself a drink.

"It's not."

"Could have fooled me."

"It's just… I don't want to give in to everyone who's been bugging me about getting a boyfriend. It's not my mission in life to have a man by my side."

"Is it your mission in life to not have a man by your side?" he questions.

"No, but..."

"So you're just proving a point," he concludes. "You're not less independent because you're sharing a bed with someone."

I put up both my hands. "Okay, I'm not discussing that with you," I say pointedly, getting up from the chair. "Come on, Sanders. Let's go." Both Sanders and Haymitch follow me.

When I'm at the door, he breaks the silence. "Whatever that boy is doing, he's doing something right." He's right. The attraction I feel toward Peeta is more than just carnal. I can't put my finger on what it is, but spending time with him puts my mind at ease. Just thinking about him makes the corners of my mouth pull up into a smile.

Haymitch points at me. "See?" I shake my head with a scoff, knowing that if I say something he's going to see right through me and know he's right. And I'll never live to see the end of it.

When I close the door behind me I feel a buzz in my pocket. It's a text from Peeta.

Peeta: Aaron is bringing his girlfriend tonight. Is that alright with you?

I'm already pretty nervous about meeting his brothers, but he's so kind, asking me if I'm okay with it. I guess I can endure one more person. Who knows? Maybe we'll hit it off.

Katniss: It's okay. As long as she doesn't expect any girl talk from me.

Peeta: That won't be a problem;)

I wonder what he means, but I don't ask him about it. I'll probably find out tonight anyway.

Peeta texts me the code for the door, saving me from making another call on the intercom, and when I knock on the door it takes some time for him to answer. When he finally does, I'm not disappointed. At this point, he could be wearing sweats and I would still find him sexy. Yes, sweatpants, hanging low on his hips, and nothing else. Some of his hair falls in his eyes, and he shakes his head to get rid of it.

"Sorry, I was in the kitchen and had to wash my hands first." He immediately spots Sanders, sitting by my feet, and gets down on his level. "Sanders, I presume?" Peeta puts his hands on both sides of Sanders' face and starts rubbing him. Sanders immediately responds by nudging him with his head, and Peeta jokingly falls backward as if they're wrestling. I'm amused by their interaction and observe them playing for a while.

Finally, I clear my throat. "I think someone just found a new best friend."

Peeta gets up, wiping his hands on his apron, and plants a quick kiss on my mouth."Sorry, I got carried away there for a second. Besides, I don't think you have to be jealous. I just cut some steaks. I think he only sees me as a piece of meat."

I drag my finger along his throat and under his chin. "He wouldn't be the only one."

Peeta's clear blue eyes widen in surprise when he realizes what I'm implying. He grabs my wrist and drags it behind his neck, pulling me closer in one swift motion, and I can smell his cologne. He lets go of my arm and locks his hands at the small of my back. How can such a small gesture be so sexy? Our eyes lock together and everything around us seems to disappear. He starts nipping at my lips, but I'm not having it. I want more. I need more. I open my mouth to deepen the kiss, and he follows my lead and captures my bottom lip in his mouth, sucking it lightly. I bring my hands up to his hair and, grabbing his curls, tug him toward me to get a little closer. I didn't know you could crave someone's touch this much. Before long our tongues swirl around each other, the kiss heating up, and I want to feel his tongue on other parts of my body. His hands starts to wander, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When one of them grabs my ass my legs give out completely, requiring Peeta to support my weight. I can picture us doing this forever, but without the restriction of clothes. The feeling of completely surrendering myself to him like this should feel wrong, but it doesn't. Everything feels right. Suddenly, I realize why I'm here and pull away, aimlessly looking around.

"Your brothers aren't here, right?" I ask, and it comes out a little more high-pitched than intended. Peeta chuckles, dragging a thumb along those sweet lips to remove the evidence of our kiss.

"No, they won't be here for about an hour," he smiles. "But I guess I should go back to the kitchen. Do you want anything to drink?"

"I could go for a beer." I can't help to draw parallels to last night when we were in this exact same position. Me drinking beer while he cooks. Even though it's only been twenty four hours, so much has happened that it's hard to believe. I was nervous before about meeting his brothers, but now, here with him, I feel like I can conquer anything. Including Delly.

"What are you thinking about?" Peeta asks.

"What do you mean?"

"You're smiling." He's smiling too.

"Nothing." He doesn't press the issue and continues to prepare our dinner. We don't talk much; I just enjoy observing him doing something that looks like it comes naturally to him while Sanders lies on the floor next to me. It's a comfortable silence with occasional stolen looks between us. Some are innocent, but some leave me wanting more. Remembering how good it felt this morning, with him nestled between my thighs, his body pressing me into the mattress, is making it hard to control myself from dragging him into the bedroom to finish what we started.

After a while Sanders gets up and walks around the island to sit next to Peeta, giving him his best puppy dog eyes. I can tell Peeta wants to give in, but before he has the chance I jump in.

"Sanders, don't beg."

"Oh, come on. He's been lying there for half an hour. I think he deserves a piece," Peeta argues, giving me the same pleading eyes Sanders just gave him.

"No. If you give in now, he'll be following you around for the rest of the evening." He wipes off his hand and gives Sanders a pet on the head.

"Sorry, bud. Guess we have to listen to mommy." I have referred to myself like that countless times when I'm talking to Sanders, but when Peeta says 'mommy' something hits me right in the gut. Does he see himself as a parent someday? Is that something he expects? Because that is something he will never get from me. Maybe I should tell him. No, it's too soon to be having that conversation.

I don't have time to dwell on it because Peeta's finished in the kitchen, leaving us thirty minutes before the guests arrive. How ever will we pass the time? Unfortunately, we have an audience, and neither of us are comfortable doing anything like that with Sanders watching our every move.

"You told me to bring him," I inform Peeta. "Now you'll pay the price," I try to chastise him, but the smile on my face betrays me.

"I don't think I'm the only one."

"I guess I should take him for a walk, anyway." Besides, I need to cool off.

"I'd come with you, but it's a cardinal sin to leave the house with the stove on," he says as he rubs Sanders' belly.

"It's okay." I need a to clear my head anyway to get these hormones in check. I can't be drooling all over Peeta when his brothers arrive. "Come on, Sanders!" But he doesn't move, ignoring me so that Peeta will continue to pet him. "Hey, traitor! Get over here." The sternness of my voice catches Sanders' attention, and he reluctantly walks to me with his head hanging low.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Peeta calls from the couch as Sanders and I leave the apartment.

We only take a ten-minute walk, and when we get back I don't bother knocking. Peeta doesn't seem to hear me come in because he remains in the kitchen with his back to me, chopping onions. I walk over to stand behind him, and when I put my hands on his shoulders, he jerks in surprise.

"Hey." I try to put on my best seductive voice and start caressing his back.

"You scared me half to death, woman!" His tone is playful, but he doesn't turn around, allowing me to continue to appreciate his body.

My hands snake around him, winding around his waist and sneaking beneath his apron so that I can hug him from behind, my cheek pressed against his back.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." And I can't help myself from what I'm about to do now, either. "Let me make it up to you." My right hand drops a couple of inches, and I start rubbing him through his pants, feeling him harden at my touch. He drops the knife he's holding, and it makes a thud as it hits the cutting board.

"Fuck, Katniss!" he grunts, putting his hands on the counter and leaning forward a bit. It only spurs me on further, and I press a little harder, eliciting another groan from him. The sounds he makes is turning me on too, and I'm glad I'm letting him support some of my weight. The feel of his cock, even if it's through the fabric of his pants, sends a wave of fire through me, and I never want to stop.

"My fourteen-year-old self is cursing me right now, but just a heads-up that my brothers are not the knocking types," he pants, causing me to stop immediately. When I do, he quickly turns around and captures my mouth with his in a passionate kiss. He puts his hands on my hips and pulls me toward him, allowing me to once again feel his erection.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he murmurs when we pull apart. "I have to cool off."

"I would suggest taking Sanders out, but we just came back." I try to keep my amusement at his predicament to myself, but I can't keep a poker face.

Peeta points a finger at me. "Hey, this is your doing." But he can't help but smile at the situation either.

Peeta's brothers barge through the door about fifteen minutes later; he was right about the knocking part. We both walk to the door, me right behind him, to greet them. I observe the three of them as Peeta gives both of them large hugs. "We didn't interrupt anything, did we, bro?"

"Nothing more than usual," Peeta replies effortlessly. He's probably used to their teasing, being the youngest and all. Both Rye and Aaron look like different versions of Peeta; no one could ever question their kinship. Peeta turns to me.

"Katniss, this is Rye." He points to one of them. His hair is slightly more yellow than Peeta's, but other than that, he's like a carbon copy of his younger brother. "And this is Aaron." They all have a muscular build, but Aaron is the leanest. Both his brothers shake my hand, and I see Peeta in the corner of my eyes smiling proudly at us when we do.

"Where's Johanna?" Peeta asks.

"She's parking the car. She didn't approve of my choice of parking and was convinced she could find a closer one. She'll be up soon, after circling the block a couple of times."

"And who's this guy?" Rye calls from the couch where Sanders is. I walk to them, as Peeta and Aaron go to the kitchen to grab some beers.

"That's Sanders," I tell him. "I hope you're not allergic. Peeta said it was okay to bring him."

"Of course he did," he smirks. "What breed is it?"

"He's a Bernese Mountain Dog. They're Swiss." Even if we just met, the small talk comes natural. I guess it runs in the family.

Just then, Peeta and Aaron join us from the kitchen with five beers in their hands.

"It's that Czech beer you suggested," Peeta says, looking at Rye. "Lucky for you, Katniss already gave her seal of approval on it yesterday."

"Really?" Rye turns his head to me with a grin as he accepts the bottle. "So did you spend the night, Katniss?" he asks as he wiggles his eyebrows. Before I can respond, Peeta cuts in.

"That's none of your fucking business," he admonishes, but Rye only seems amused at getting a rise out of his little brother.

"So, 'yes' then," he concludes with a content smile.

I'm touched by how Peeta instantly defended my honor, and I can see how tense his shoulders are and how his jaw is clenching. I put one of my hands on his shoulder to calm him and look Rye in the eyes, noticing that they are almost the same shade as Peeta's.

"Yes. And if you'd known what we did on that couch, you wouldn't be sitting on it," I deadpan, trying to keep my voice from faltering. There's a moment of silence as my words sink in. All three Mellark brothers look at me with different levels of disbelief. Then Aaron bursts out laughing, and soon the others follow.

"She got you, man." Aaron looks at the middle brother and then slings his arm around me. "I think you're gonna fit in here. Not many can shut Rye up like that," he says in a warm voice. And just like that, after only a couple of minutes with Peeta's brothers, I feel welcome in this family. I can see why they are so close.

"What's with the commotion?" We all turn our attention to the woman standing by the door. She's petite, with brown hair, and she's rocking a pixie cut. Peeta sets his beer on the table and walks toward her, his hand brushing against mine as he passes me.

"Johanna!" he exclaims as he gives her a big hug. "It's been way too long."

"I know," she says, returning his embrace. Peeta told me that he and Johanna were friends before she started dating Aaron, and I'm glad he did. Otherwise I would have been a little concerned by their closeness.

"Hey! You sure you've got the right brother?" Aaron yells to Johanna. Both of them shoot him a glare. Then Johanna's eyes settle on me, her eyes squinting, like she's inspecting every part of me.

"So, you're Katniss." She's not angry, but she doesn't seem very happy with meeting me either. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that she was Peeta's older sibling, not Aaron or Rye.

Peeta made good on his promise to make cheese buns for tonight, and those are the first I go for when we're all seated at the table. I'm sure everything is delicious, but if I only eat them tonight, I'd be happy too. Peeta and I sit next to each other, with Aaron and Johanna across from us and Rye on the short side. As everyone digs in on the steaks and oven-baked potatoes an unexpectant silence falls across the table.

"Oh my god, Peeta! This is amazing!" Johanna bursts out. "If I wasn't already banging your brother..." She doesn't finish, but we all know what she's talking about.

"You know I'm sitting right here?"Aaron cuts in.

"Besides, not interested," Peeta says, giving my hand a squeeze under the table.

"Ouch," Johanna feigns distress.

"Yeah, well, karma's a bitch," Peeta says as he takes a sip of his beer, a smile dancing on his lips.

"Oh, come on. Let it go!" Johanna complains, but I can hear the light tone in her voice.

"Hey, some wounds cut deeper than others," Peeta pouts, but it's obvious that they're only teasing.

I'm at a loss, having no idea about what they're talking about. "What?"

"Peeta's been holding a grudge against Johanna for over a year now," Rye explains.

"Why?" I look at Peeta.

"Do you want to tell her about your sins, or should I?" Peeta shoots a look toward Johanna.

She sighs loudly. "Once," she murmurs. "Once, I put ketchup on his carbonara."

Peeta points the bottom of his bottle to Johanna. "I don't need that kind of negativity in my life."

"Yeah, don't mess with Peeta and his pasta," Aaron informs me. "Did he give you the bucatini speech, yet?" he asks, locking his eyes on me. I remember how Peeta explained the difference last night.

Aaron smirks and adds, "Guess he did." His eyes move from mine to Rye's. "You owe me twenty bucks."

Peeta snorts and buries his head in his hands. "You guys are the worst."

Rye slings his arm around Peeta. "That's what big brothers are for."

"One year, Rye," Peeta says. "You're one year older than me," he sighs.

"And don't you ever forget it," Rye beams and lets him go. I find all of this extremely endearing.

As the evening progresses the number of empty beer bottles on the counter keeps growing, and by the time we've finished both dinner and dessert, we're all a little bit under the influence. Not drunk, just buzzed.

"Did Peeta tell you about the time...?"

"Enough," Peeta interjects. "I would like to have some dignity left after tonight. You've done enough damage as it is." He's not wrong. They've revealed a lot of childhood stories at Peeta's expense tonight. Like how he, at the age of six, spent the entire day in the sun and turned completely pink, earning him the nickname 'babe' for the majority of their childhood.

"I need a smoke anyway," Johanna announces and shoots me a look. "Katniss?"

"No, I don't smoke," I decline.

"Then you can keep me company. These wimps never do." She gets up and drags me through Peeta's bedroom to get to the balcony. As soon as she lights her cigarette, she wastes no time.

"Did you fuck him yet?" she asks, like she's talking about the weather. I'm so taken aback by her question that my beer almost comes out through my nose.

"What?"

"You might as well tell me. I'm gonna coax it out of Peeta later anyway." Even if she does, I'm not comfortable telling her that. I've only just met her.

"I don't know if..."

"Fine, don't tell me." She blows out smoke from the corner of her mouth. "But if you haven't, you should. He seriously needs to get laid." She reminds me of Peeta's confession this morning that still lingers in the back of my mind.

"From what I've heard, he doesn't need any help in that department," I say dryly.

"He doesn't." She pauses and takes another smoke from her cigarette. "But the celibacy he's been living in for the last year needs to end." This is new information. When Peeta talked about his previous trysts, I assumed they were recent. Guess I was wrong.

"Besides," Johanna continues. "That was more of a coping mechanism. Filling a void, so to speak. I never met any of them. Neither did Aaron or Rye."

The implication of her words speaks volumes. He never introduced anyone to his brothers before. Except me. I can't wait for these people to leave, so I can show him how much that means to me.

"I'm gonna be upfront with you," Johanna pulls me from my stupor and puts out her cigarette. "You seem like a nice person. And god, he's such a sap when he talks about you!" She shakes her head, and I think I can catch the hint of a small smile. Then, her face turns sober. "But if you hurt him in any way, I will put an axe in your face," she says as she leans against the railing. Her voice is stern, and, by the looks of it, she's not kidding around.

"Hey, Johanna." Peeta pokes his head through the door. "I'm gonna sleep in this room later. Are you done polluting the air?"

"Riiight, sleep," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously?" He shakes his head and looks at me. "See what I have to deal with?"

I reach out and pat his head. "Aw, poor you." I drag my fingers through his curls before letting go.

As much as I've enjoyed the company tonight, I'm not sad when they leave. Peeta stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders; I've been drinking a little more than I usually do, and I'm grateful he keeps me steady as we say our goodbyes. When Peeta says goodbye to his brothers, Aaron puts his mouth by his ear and says something, but I don't catch it. It's obvious it wasn't meant for my ears, but I'm still curious. Peeta just responds with a smile and nods as he releases his brother.

After they leave, Peeta starts putting away the dishes.

"Shit, I have to take Sanders for a walk," I realize, slapping my hand on my forehead.

"You shouldn't go by yourself," Peeta calls from the kitchen as he puts the last plates in the dishwasher. Then he comes over to me, burying his hands in my hair. I close my eyes as he drags his fingers all the way to the tips. "Let me do it," he offers.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't. I volunteered."

I lean my head on his chest, my hands moving upward on his back so I'm hugging his shoulders and letting out a sigh, "Thank you." Then I remember what his brother said and add, "Babe."

"Oh, they're gonna pay for that," he complains, but I don't really think he minds. He moves to leave, but I hold him a little tighter, not ready to let go yet. The warmth he radiates is so soothing that if I fell asleep here, standing like this, I wouldn't complain. He puts his hands in my hair again, but this time he tilts my head up and gives me a kiss on the mouth. I taste the beer on his lips as I return his kiss.

"I'll be right back," he says as he pulls away. He gives me a quick kiss on the nose before leaving with Sanders. This is the first time I've been alone in his apartment, and I take my time to look around. Not poking around, just looking. There are a some photos on the wall, next to the living room table. All of them are of Peeta and his brothers. They're in the same position in every one; Rye in the middle with Peeta to his right and Aaron to his left. Apparently, they've been taking the same picture every year since they were about ten.

I take a good look at them, and my eyes are drawn to Peeta in each. I get to see how he outgrew his chubby cheeks in his adolescence and how he grew into the sexy, broad-shouldered man I met not so long ago. But I stop short when I get to a photo that was taken two or three years ago. He's smiling into the camera, but his eyes seem cloudy and unfocused. The sparkle he had in the previous ones is gone and doesn't return in any of the subsequent ones. I want nothing more than to put it back there.

I turn my head at the sound of the door and see Peeta returning with Sanders. I slouch down on the couch as Peeta comes over.

"How did it go?" I ask as he sits next to me.

"Great. The poor guy is exhausted. I think he's sound asleep at the door already."

"Good." I grab the collar of Peeta's shirt to pull him toward me and give him a long, wet kiss. He seems surprised, but catches on quickly, his tongue meeting mine. I lean back to drag him with me so that we're in the same position as this morning, with him between my legs, pressing against my core. I let go of his collar and fumble with the buttons on his shirt. At this, he moves one of his hands to the hem of my sweater, caressing the skin underneath. His hands are warm, but when he touches me, goosebumps break out all over my body and the thrill of his hands on me sends electrical surges straight to my clit.

A moan escapes my lips as he moves his hand upward, kneading my breast through the fabric of my bra, and my heart beat starts pounding in my ear. His mouth moves from my lips to the side of my neck, and I automatically buck my hips, searching for the hardness I can feel through his pants. But I need more, and his shirt is in the way. I've been fumbling with the buttons this entire time and haven't made any progress.

"These motherfucking..." I sigh in exasperation. Peeta's mouth leaves my neck as he pulls back.

"Let me help you with that." He swiftly unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off as I admire his upper body. I sit up and instinctively start to kiss his neck, collarbone and chest. I press one of my hands on his shoulders, urging him to lie back on the couch so we're changing positions, with me on top. Peeta complies, lying on his back as I continue to pamper him with kisses. I want to lick his abs, so I kiss my way there. When I reach my destination, he puts his hands in my hair and starts massaging my scalp, letting out a contented sigh. It feels so incredibly good. This feels so incredibly good.

After a couple of seconds of this, he pulls my head up to his, locking our lips together. His tongue easily seeks out mine, his hand finding its way back under my sweater. When he reaches my breast again, I sigh into his mouth. Even with my eyes closed I know he's smiling, and as he drags his thumb on the inside of my bra, my nipple hardens instantly when he starts stroking it. When he does, all the reservations I might have had vanish, and I grind myself against him. He responds by bucking his hips, giving me some much needed friction. In any other situation I would be mortified by the sounds that escape my mouth, but they only seem to spur Peeta on, like he finds them irresistible. And then both of his hands are cupping my breasts, squeezing and rubbing them in all the right ways. When he uses the pads of his thumbs to rub small circles across my nipples, I feel another wave of pleasure rush through me, making me even wetter for him. Who would have thought dry humping could feel this good? No one has ever made me feel this way just by touching me like this.

I'm putty in his warm hands, and after a while I can't hold up my body any longer. I reluctantly pull away from him, and I straighten up so that I'm sitting, grateful that the couch is wide enough to allow me to straddle his hips. I notice my sweater has ridden up, but instead of pulling it back down, I drag it over my head and fling it away, not caring where it lands. My bra is also a mess, so I throw that off too. When I look back at Peeta, he's looking at me in pure shock. His jaw is slack, but his eyes have taken on a new type of hunger I haven't seen there before. He licks his lips and reaches out to slowly drag one of his thumbs across the hardened peak of my nipple. The gesture causes me to shudder, and I'm suddenly aware of how exposed I am.

"You're beautiful," he says. His voice is dark and so sincere that I have no choice but to believe his words.

"You too," I sigh in response. He smiles and straightens up so his head is level to my bare breasts. Without hesitation, he envelopes my left nipple in his mouth and starts stroking it with his tongue, one hand caressing my other breast while his free hand presses me firmly on my back. If it was possible, I'd grind myself even harder on his cock. I want him to feel the same way I do right now. Not knowing what to do with this intense pleasure, my hands go straight to his hair, grabbing onto it.

I'm so lost in the way Peeta touches me that I hardly notice when he lifts me up and carries me to his bedroom. My legs automatically lock around his waist. I could argue I do it to help him support my weight, but it's really to keep our bodies connected. As he kicks the door shut with his foot, I start kissing his face. I don't care if he can't see where he's going.

He lowers me onto his bed, and I release my lock on him. I crawl backward on my elbows until I reach the headboard. Peeta follows, hovering above me, his intense stare sending shivers down my spine. His lips connects with my neck, and he swirls his tongue in a circular motion as he slowly moves his head down to my breasts again. I arch my back to get him, if possible, a little bit closer. His hands find their way behind my back as he trails kisses down to my stomach. His tongue dips into my belly button, and I can't hold back a moan. His tongue. His hands. Everything about him is perfection.

He moves his body so we're flush, his chest pressed to mine. I can feel him straining through his pants, and I buck my hips to relieve some tension. He groans and kisses my neck in response.

"Can I taste you?" he asks tenderly.

He's already tasted every other part of my body. Why would I deny him this? I usually don't enjoy it very much, not liking how exposed I am. But with Peeta, it feels different. If he wants it, I want it too.

"Yes," I pant.

The heartwarming smile he gives me only makes me wetter in anticipation, but Peeta takes his time. Kissing his way down my body. Kissing my nipples. Kissing my stomach. His fingers start working on the buttons of my pants. He's more successful than I was with his shirt, and before long he drags my pants off my legs. He immediately starts stroking me through my panties, and I'm a little ashamed of how they're already soaked. But it's easily overshadowed by how good his fingers feel.

"You're so wet," he murmurs.

The sincerity of his voice gives me the confidence to tell him the truth. "For you." He grabs the fabric of the last remaining piece of clothing on my body and pulls it off, like it's offending him. When he drags his finger across my entrance my head falls backward, hitting the headboard. He gives me open-mouthed kisses along the inside of my thighs, and the light stubble on his cheeks tickles a little. But he continues to stroke me with his finger, teasing me by dragging it along my slit, agonizingly slow. I can't take it any longer.

"Peeta, please."

"What?" he asks innocently.

"Lick me," I breathe.

He drags his tongue in the same path his finger just took in one slow motion. When he applies some pressure on my clit, I cry out. I've got a beautiful man between my legs, and I don't care if anyone knows it.

"Oh, holy Jesus fucking christ!"

"Hey, don't give him all the credit," Peeta says, sounding offended.

"Shut up." How dare he stop? "Get back to work."

"Yes, ma'am."

He starts swirling with his tongue again, and it sends shivers through my body, causing me to shudder. He hikes my legs up onto his shoulders, and while his tongue works my clit, one of his fingers finds its way inside me. I love it, but when I close my eyes it's his cock I see sliding in and out of me. He flicks his tongue up and down. Lapping and sucking like a parched man who's never seen water before, and, as the feel of his tongue becomes more intense, I start bucking my hips. This seem to spur him on even more, and he adds another finger.

"Fuck! Yes, more!" I manage to cry out. He's plunging two fingers in and out of me. Faster and faster. His mouth must have been made for this, and if my heart could beat any faster, it would. One of his hands finds my breasts and he drags his thumb back and forth, across my nipple. He flicks his tongue up and down my clit, and when he curls his fingers inside me, I feel that familiar tingling in my lower belly. I don't know what to do with my hands, so I grab his hair to have something to hold on to. Peeta makes a humming sound, like he's eating something delicious, and the vibration is my undoing. I cry out his name as he sends me over the edge, and my orgasm sends waves of pleasure crashing through me.

"Peeta! Yes!" I scream, and he doesn't slow down until I've stopped shuddering. He kisses his way up my body until he reaches my lips and gives me kiss on the mouth. His lips are still covered in my juices, and I can taste myself on him. It's unexpectedly arousing, even though I just had, without shadow of doubt, the most intense orgasms of my life.

When I've come down from my high he pulls away and stretches out one of his arms so that I can rest my head on it, our faces close enough for our noses to bump. There's some street light coming from the window, and it illuminates his face, allowing me to admire his features.

As powerful as that orgasm was, it was equally exhausting, and I try to bite back a yawn. I feel guilty for becoming this tired before he's had his release. I want him to feel what I just felt, so my hands travel down his chest and well-trained abdomen. When I reach his waist, I dip my hand into his pants in search for him, but Peeta puts his hand on mine. I open my eyes, in search of his.

"You don't owe me anything," he says. He doesn't want me to return the favor?

"You don't want me to…?"

"More than you know," he sighs. "But I don't want you to feel obligated." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and gives me a shy smile. "Besides, you seem tired."

This has never happened before, and I don't know how to handle it. Every guy I've ever been with have always wanted something in return, but Peeta seems content with cuddling.

"Fine. But I think you're way too over-dressed." He is. He's still wearing pants, and I'm completely naked.

He chuckles. "That can be fixed." He gets up from the bed and pulls off his pants, but keeps his boxers on. The noise from the street floods the room as he opens the window. "Do you mind?" he asks.

"No, it's fine."

"Good." He crawls back into bed and pulls the covers up so that they're over my shoulders. I turn over so he can hold me from behind. Our bodies are flush, and I don't really need the covers to keep me warm. Peeta nestles his face in my neck and gives me a kiss there as he palms one of my breasts. I'm feeling drowsy, and I'm sure sleep will soon take over. Judging by the heaviness of Peeta's breathing, he feels the same way. But I can't let him fall asleep without him knowing something. Maybe it's the alcohol talking, but it doesn't make it any less true.

"Peeta?" I whisper.

"Hmm?"

"I want to suck your cock."

He exhales into my neck, giving me another kiss, and I can hear the smile in his response. "Well, there's always tomorrow."

Author's note: If you're enjoying this story, please let me know. Here, or on tumblr (maxwellandlovelace). Thank you for reading.