Author's notes: To my wonderful friend and beta, papofglencoe! Thank you!

So there's a lot of smut in this chapter. Consider yourself warned.


I never thought I'd grow tired of looking at the background picture on my phone. It's of Peeta sleeping, with Sanders crammed between him and the back of the couch, putting half of his weight on Peeta. I found them that way once when I got back from work. Apparently, he was taking a nap when Sanders jumped up to lie beside him, and Peeta didn't have the heart to move him and eventually they both fell asleep like that. Neither of them heard me when I got back, and I couldn't resist the urge to eternalize the moment.

Right now, however, I want nothing more than for that picture to be replaced by an incoming call, or text, or whatever, from Peeta. Since our fight a couple of days ago we've seen each other, but he's been absent somehow, his mind wandering to other places, not his usual easygoing, confident self. No more texts with just a heart or some sweet words. No more surprise hugs from behind, where one of his hands starts caressing my breasts before dipping beneath my panties, causing all my muscles to go limp as he keeps me standing with one of his strong arms while finishing me off with his fingers.

I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've seen him smile, and neither of those reached his eyes. The frustration of being completely helpless and unable to support him in whatever is troubling him is eating at me. There's a fine line between being supportive and nagging, and I don't know which side I'm on. Maybe we both need to clear our minds, doing something that requires absolutely no thinking on either part. I've been mulling it over the entire afternoon, and I haven't gotten any work done. Might as well call it a day. Before I leave, I poke my head through Finnick's door.

"What do guys like to do to blow off some steam?"

His head snaps in my direction, surprised to see me there, but he doesn't miss a beat.

"What do you think?" he says, like it's obvious.

"Besides that," I say, rolling my eyes. I've gotten so used to his recurring sexual innuendos that I should have seen that one coming.

He throws up his hands in the air and sighs. "I don't know... get drunk?"

"Really?"

"If you want to get your mind off something, getting drunk is the best way to do it. Or you could reconsider the first option."

I want to tell him I've already tried that, but keep my mouth shut. "Okay, alcohol it is."

I'm about to leave when Finnick calls after me. "Hey, Katniss." I stop at the doorframe and look back at him as he rolls his chair over to me. "Is everything alright? With you and Peeta, I mean." I know his concern is genuine. He's quite a tease, but I know he always has my back.

We've always been very honest with each other, and I've shared a lot of my insecurities with him. But this has more to do with Peeta than with me, and I don't want to break his trust. "Yeah, I just want to do something different." I hope he's satisfied with my answer.

"Okay. But you know I'm here for you. And if you want me to, I'll kick his ass."

"I know you would." I don't think he would be successful, though.


Apart from his small studio at home, Peeta has another one where he does most of his work. It's not that far from the gallery where he had his art show a couple of weeks ago. It's like a small apartment on the second floor with large windows and a small office. I've been there a few times, and so far, I've managed to avoid Delly on all of those occasions. No such luck this time.

The studio itself is empty, but there are voices coming from the office; I recognize them both.

"What? I never told her that!" Delly's high-pitched tone cuts through the room, and I stop dead in my tracks.

"Then where would she get that idea from? She said you told her." Peeta's voice is lower but strained. I don't know if I should announce my arrival, but I don't want to interrupt either. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I stay outside the door where I can hear their voices clearly.

"Well, I didn't." But you certainly insinuated it.

Peeta sighs. "Could you have said anything that might have been interpreted that way?" I know he hates fighting, and he's trying to figure this out, hoping that everything is a big misunderstanding so that no one gets hurt. I have a hard time believing Delly is so dense that she didn't understand how her comment would be interpreted. Either way, someone is getting hurt. I just hope it's not me.

I don't hear anything for a couple of seconds, and I'm starting to think that maybe they left through a door I didn't know existed. Then Delly breaks the silence.

"Oh, Peeta, I'm so sorry!" Her voice is muffled, but I can hear she's on the verge of crying.

"Why? What for?"

No one says anything, but I can hear Delly's sobs. "I may have alluded to something like that." There's another long silence. "Please, say something," Delly pleads.

"Why?" I can barely hear him because it comes out almost as a whisper.

"It's just… We've known each other for so long, Peeta," she cries. "I guess I thought that eventually you'd..." she trails off.

"Eventually I'd what?" he snaps, anger apparent in his tone.

"You would feel the same way I do," she says carefully, her voice trembling. "Please, Peeta. Don't you see? We know everything about each other and..."

"No, we don't," he cuts her off. "I can't believe this. You were supposed to be my friend," he raises his voice.

"I am your friend. Please, I'm so sorry. Peeta, you have to forgive me. You can't give up our friendship over something silly like this," Delly desperately begs.

"I don't have to do anything, and it's not silly. And you owe Katniss an apology too."

"But..."

"Can you please just leave?" I don't hear anger anymore, only sadness.

All of a sudden the door swings open, causing me to stumble backward a little, and I'm met with Delly's blue eyes, raw from crying. She gasps when she spots me but doesn't say anything. She looks away and runs to the door, closing it behind her with a bang.

"How much did you hear?" Peeta's voice startles me. I'm afraid he'll be upset to find out I was here, but it doesn't seem like it. He's sitting in his chair with his head buried in his hands, and I carefully approach the office door, slowly walking inside.

"Enough." I pause. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was just coming over to see you, and I swear I didn't know she was here."

"It's fine. You would have heard it later anyway. I'm sorry about what she said to you," he sighs, looking miserable. I rapidly move around the desk to sit in his lap and cradle his head in my hands. "I can't wrap my head around it. Why would she do something like that?"

He had no idea. From the way she acted around Peeta it was obvious to me she had more than friendly intentions toward him. But it was completely lost on him; he didn't see it.

Now it all makes sense to me. The way he'd been acting: it had nothing to do with me or us. He had been dreading this conversation with her. While I was wallowing around feeling sorry for myself, I never once considered how Peeta was affected by all of this. I'm so fucking selfish. She's one of his best friends, and he was hurt by her actions. And here I'd been acting like I was the only one who had been wronged.

"I don't know," I croak. I clear my throat, not wanting to make this about me. We sit like that for a couple of minutes, his head pressed against my chest and his hands firmly on my back.

"I'm sorry I've been kind of distant lately," Peeta murmurs, finally breaking the silence. "I've been thinking." He takes a breath. "I don't know if the offer's still on the table, considering how I acted. But if you still want to, I would like to come to the conference with you," he says as he lifts his head to look at me. Maybe it's not appropriate, but I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face. I just nod and plant a kiss on his mouth. "Is that a 'yes'?"

"Yes, of course." I'm relieved when he smiles back at me.

"So what brings you here?" he asks, leaning back in the chair.

I stand up and sit on the desk while he strokes the outside of my thighs.

"I thought that you and I could forget about all the shit that's been going on and just let loose. I dropped Sanders off at Haymitch's so we can go out."

"You want to go out?" He seems unconvinced.

"Yeah. I definitely prefer staying in with you, but it's nice to go out sometimes, too."

"Alright, you've got it." I'm grateful he can put the Delly situation behind him, at least for tonight. "A fair warning, though. I get a little handsy when I'm drunk," he winks.

"I know." I'm counting on it. "As long as they're on me, you can get completely wasted."


We've been at the bar for almost two hours, and I think I'm on my third glass of wine, and I don't know how many beers Peeta's had. He's been holding my hand almost the entire time, rubbing circles on the back of it. We've been talking about everything and nothing, and we're both a little buzzed.

It's not lost on me how most of the women here throw Peeta appreciative glances, their eyes lingering on him a little longer than they should. The looks they give me are the polar opposite, but Peeta seems completely unaware of the effect he has on people.

"All I'm saying is, there's gotta be a reason he follows you around all the time." The subject of conversation at the moment is Sanders.

"What? You don't think it's because of my charming personality?" Peeta winks.

"Maybe it's your fine ass," I joke, taking another sip of my wine and locking my eyes on his. We're only messing around, but it's the truth, and I can see that he appreciates my compliment.

"I'm glad to hear your eyesight is in order, but I don't think Sanders cares about that."

"I don't think he cares about your charming personality, either. It's the food you slip him every time you two are alone in the kitchen," I try to scold him, but I really don't mind. I'm glad that Peeta has taken a liking to Sanders; I think Sanders probably likes him more. I don't mind. Peeta does have a charming personality.

He holds up his hands. "I can't help if I drop something on the floor while I cook."

"Drop," I say with air quotes. "Don't think I'm not onto you, Mellark. You're bribing my dog."

Peeta takes another swig of his beer. "And what are you gonna do about it, Detective Everdeen?" he winks, but I can hear the desire in his voice. Maybe it has something to do with how my foot has been stroking his leg almost the entire time, going higher with every sip of wine that passes my lips. But I'm not going to give into it. At least not yet.

"I'm gonna drink you under the table."

He grabs my foot when it's only inches from his crotch. "You could try. I'll have you know that I'm the reigning shot race champion in the Mellark household," he says proudly, grabbing my shoe from the floor and sliding it on.

"You're trying to intimidate me?" I smirk. I'm feeling the effects of the alcohol, but I'm having such a great time that I'm not going to stop now.

"Is it working?"

I let out a chuckle. When I get up, I slide my finger up one of his arms and pull it away when I reach his shoulder. "Maybe. I'll be right back." I spin around and wiggle my ass in front of him, making him groan. Good. Now I know I have his full attention as I walk to the bar.

As I walk back to our booth, drinks on a tray in my hands, I get a little dizzy. I'm not drunk, but if I had been completely sober, I probably would have seen the guy right in front of me. But I'm so busy trying not to spill the drinks that I smack right into his side, and all the work I did balancing the tray is lost when all but one of the glasses falls to the floor. The music's too loud for anyone to hear the glass crashing, but the guy I walked into turns around. He's the type of guy that girls would call tall, dark and handsome. I don't see it. He's tall. He's dark. But he's not handsome, not like Peeta.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't looking. I hope I didn't get anything on your shirt," I say as I try to find any stains, but it's too dark to see anything.

"No, it's fine," he answers, flashing me a smile. Good, I was afraid he was going to be rude about it, but I guess the odds are in my favor this time. "I think it was my fault, standing in your way." He sounds oddly sober for being at a bar.

"I really don't think so. Sorry again," I say as I hold up the only shot glass that survived and walk back to Peeta. But when I'm about to turn around I bang my foot into the threshold of the dance floor, causing me to stumble and nearly fall forward, but the same guy catches me in his arms before I do. Shit, maybe I'm more drunk than I thought.

"If you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go through such extreme measures." He sounds cocky, and I want his hands off of me; he doesn't have Peeta's warm touch at all. I stand up and release myself from his grip.

"What?"

"I mean, a simple 'hello' would have done it. You didn't have to fall into my arms." Is this guy for real? He acts like girls fall all over him on a regular basis. He's not even that good-looking.

Before I get a chance to respond, I feel another hand on my shoulder, but it's one I'm used to, and I'm grateful Peeta's here.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." I lean into his touch.

"Hey, man. We're in the middle of a conversation here," tall-dark-and-handsome chips in.

"Yeah, and by the looks of it you're after a little more than that." I turn around and see Peeta shooting daggers at the other guy. The look in his eyes is fierce, and I can't help but find it extremely sexy.

"Yeah, so? Why don't you run along and find you own lay for the night?" he says condescendingly, making a running motion with two of his fingers. Peeta's hand tenses on my shoulder, and when I look up to him I see that beautiful jaw of his clenching as he looks this dude straight in the eyes. He's really pissing Peeta off, and I have to do something to defuse the situation before it gets out of hand.

Peeta points a warning finger at him. "You better watch it." His voice is stern, almost angry.

I step in between the men, glaring at this obnoxious guy. "Actually, this is my boyfriend, and if you'll excuse us, we're going to go home and fuck." I take Peeta's hand and drag him with me toward the exit.

We're just outside the bar when he pulls me around a corner, away from the crowd. I don't have time to be confused about it because his lips are on mine before I have the chance to think. It's not one of his sweet good night kisses. It's rough and greedy, and his tongue dances around mine as he pins both my hands above my head. His actions send a jolt right to my clit, and I can already feel my panties getting wet.

When he releases my lips, he starts kissing my neck and throat. "That was. The sexiest thing. I've ever seen," he pants between kisses. I want to drag my fingers through his hair, but he keeps my hands firmly above my head. If I really wanted to move them I could, but I kind of like the feeling of Peeta completely controlling the situation. Controlling me. His mouth makes its way back to the side of my face, and he starts licking and gently sucking my earlobe.

"Oh!" I cry out. But when he thrusts his hips against mine and I feel his hard cock against my pussy, the only thing that leaves my lips is his name. "Peeta." He pushes me even further against the brick wall, and if I wasn't so turned on it probably would have hurt. But at this point it only makes me wetter for him. The only thing I can - or want to - focus on is Peeta, so I hoist my leg up on his hip, and he instinctively grabs it and starts stroking my thigh. "I want..." I gasp. He stops what he's doing and looks at me, those sapphire eyes gazing into mine. "I need..." I'm too far gone to form any coherent sentences so I show him instead. I buck my hips to feel him again.

"Me too." His voice is rough but sincere, and I do an internal victory dance. Is this really happening? Are we really doing this? Peeta releases me from his grip and brings his hands to my face, holding it and rubbing his thumbs along my cheeks. When I feel his lips again they're soft and tender. I like these different sides of Peeta, both the man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it, and the kind and caring man who wouldn't hurt a fly. I melt into his kiss.

"Let's get out of here," he suggests when we break apart. He doesn't have to tell me twice.

The cab ride home is a little awkward. Peeta holds my hand, and we both want to give in to our desires, but we're still sober enough to act civilized in a car with another person. That's not to say I don't catch his eyes lingering on my cleavage while he licks his lips. But I'm no better; it would be a complete lie to say that I didn't spend the majority of the ride stealing glances at his crotch and his obvious erection.

When we finally arrive at my house I hurry to the door while Peeta pays the driver. I search around my bag for the keys, and just when I find them I feel Peeta's arms envelop me from behind, his warm breath on my neck.

"You're trying to get away from me?" he whispers between kisses.

"No. I just want to get you inside as soon as possible." I thought I already was as turned on as I could get, but when Peeta moves his hand to my breast and gives it a gentle squeeze, my hunger for him only intensifies, and I roll my hips against his.

"Don't let me stop you." It's difficult to concentrate on opening the door, and I fumble with the keys when Peeta's hands sneak under my sweater, distracting me even more. It's extremely hard to concentrate on anything but his hands and lips, but somehow I manage to get the door open.

As soon as it closes behind us I'm pressed against it, exactly like I was against the wall outside the bar. But now we have the luxury of privacy, and as Peeta kisses me, he lets his hand wander up to my breast again, and I grind my hips against his to relieve some of the tension that's been building all night.

My hands go to his hair, and I start tugging at it. When I feel his erection through his pants he lets go of my breast and brings my arms over my head, just like before. He keeps them in place with one of his hands and strokes me through my pants with the other. He can probably feel the heat coming from my center as he moves his hand back and forth. Even through my clothes it feels so good, and if I didn't already know what his tongue feels like, I'd say this is the best feeling in the world.

"I'm so wet for you," I pant in his ear. At this, he moves his hand and slams his hips against mine, his cock hitting exactly where I want it. Where I need it.

"Do you have any fucking idea what that does to me?" he growls, and when he pushes forward again I throw both of my legs around his waist and lock them in an attempt to bring him closer. His hands travel to my back, and he supports me as he carries me to the bedroom. As soon as we're both on the bed, he climbs over me and starts peppering my face and neck with kisses like he can't get enough.

The clothes I'm wearing are suddenly way too fucking uncomfortable, and Peeta must feel the same way because he starts tugging at my sweater. I push him back just enough to to pull it over my head and throw it across the room. Peeta does the same with his shirt, and I take the opportunity to put my hands on his chest and trace his muscles with my hands.

"Lie back," I tell him, and he readily complies. I straddle his hips, grinding down on him. As I take off my bra, his hands instinctively make their way to my breasts, kneading and squeezing them just the way I like. His thumbs stroke my nipples, and I shudder as they harden at his touch. In response, he snaps his hips, causing me to moan loudly in pleasure. What he's doing to me is making my heart beat through the roof.

"Alright, that's enough," Peeta says huskily, and before I know it, he flips us over so that he's above me. Even though we're both intoxicated, on each other and alcohol, he's still clear-headed enough to support his weight on his elbows, making sure not to crush me. His tongue travels from my throat and down to my breasts, where he takes his time, swirling it around my nipples. "You're so sexy," he whispers against my skin, and the warm, fuzzy feeling only Peeta can give me spreads through my body.

When he reaches my pants, he easily tugs them down together with my panties in one motion. I use my legs to throw them off completely, and normally I would feel exposed lying completely naked like this. But the way Peeta looks at me, the hunger he has in his eyes for me, puts my mind at ease. His hand goes to my folds, and when I feel his fingers, my eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

"No." Peeta's voice brings me back to this world. I raise my head and rise up onto my elbows. "I want you to watch." I don't understand what he means, and I guess my confusion is written on my face. He leans forward and gives me a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips. Then he brings his mouth to my ear. "I'm gonna make you come, and you're gonna watch me do it." His words send a wave of desire right through me, settling in my lower belly, and I let out a groan.

"Do it," I urge him. He swiftly descends on my body, leaving kisses in a trail of fire down to my stomach. He stops his ministrations and looks up at me with pure desire. He changes his position a little so I'm on full display for him. He doesn't waste any time, dipping his head down and dragging his tongue through my wet folds. "Oh my god!" I wail as my head falls backward; all my muscles seem to have stopped working.

"Hey, eyes on me."

"I can't," I breathe.

"Yes, you can," Peeta says, bringing one of his hands to my breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I manage to look back down at him, and he licks me teasingly on my clit. "You taste so good, Katniss."

"Please, Peeta. Don't stop." He doesn't. He keeps licking and sucking, occasionally lifting his eyes, to make sure I'm still looking at him. It takes everything in me to not fall backward, but it feels so good that I don't dare go against his will. I've never understood why someone would want to lick anyone's pussy; it can't taste that great, but seeing Peeta getting so turned on by this is nothing short of exhilarating. His tongue swirls around my clit, eliciting one moan after the other from me.

I start bucking my hips, and Peeta drags his finger through my folds, but he doesn't push it in. He just keeps teasing my entrance, slowly dragging it up and down, and speeds up his movements with his tongue.

"Peeta..." He's the only thing on my mind right now, and I'm so close. I want to feel more of him. Need to feel more of him. All of him. Instead of using his finger he starts sucking on my clit, and that's it for me. I start shaking as the waves of my orgams come crashing and my body finally gives in, falling backward on the bed as he keeps going until I've stopped shuddering.

The orgasms he gives me usually leave me completely sated, but tonight I want more. As soon as he's back at my side I swing one of my legs over him, pushing my tongue into his mouth. He seems surprised at my initiative but follows my lead and lets me sit on his stomach. I inch backward until I can unbuckle his belt.

"I want you inside me." I say, and I mean it. I've waited long enough.

"Do you have…?" Before he can finish his question I reach over him to the drawer and pull out a condom. As I lean over, he takes advantage of the fact that my breasts are right in front of his face by capturing one of them in his mouth, flicking his tongue across my nipple, causing me to groan. "You're fucking amazing," he breathes.

He reaches for the condom in my hand, but I pull it away from him.

"I want to do it." His eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. I move backward to shuck off his pants, and when I finally do and get a look at his cock, I briefly worry that it's going to hurt me. He's so thick, and it's been such a long time for me. I didn't think it registered on my face, but apparently it does. Peeta sits up and cups my cheek.

"We won't do anything you don't want to." His voice is low and sincere.

"I know. It's just… It's been a while, is all."

He brings his other hand to my face gives me a slow, sweet kiss. "Me too." He seems a little nervous too, but it makes me feel safe, knowing that I'm not the only one. I pull away and start tearing the foil to put the condom on him. I take my time, rolling it slowly over his cock, teasing him a little bit by giving him a few extra strokes.

"If you keep doing that I'm not gonna last long," he says hoarsely.

"I don't care." I don't. It's his turn now. When he's fully sheathed, I lift up on my knees and grab him at the base. Lowering my hips a little bit, I drag his erection through my folds, coating him with my arousal.

"Oh my god," he gasps, throwing his arms on the bed, his hands balled into tight fists. I bring him to my entrance and slowly lower myself down onto him. We moan in unison as his cock finds its way inside me. He fills me up completely, but it doesn't hurt. I have to let my body adjust to his size before I start moving, and sitting still here, like this, with Peeta fully inside me and his wonderful blue eyes boring into mine, I feel a sense of calm. I've felt connected to him before, but this is an entirely new kind.

I raise my hips a little, letting him slide out a bit before I slam back down on him again. I do this a couple of times, and his grunts and moans let me know that I'm doing something right. I bring my hands to his chest and lean on him, letting him push himself into me as I raise my hips. His hands move from my outer thighs up to grab my waist, holding me in place. Then one of them skates down to my ass, grabbing it. At this, my hips start moving at their own accord, eagerly meeting his.

"You feel so good," he growls.

"You too," I manage to respond.

I didn't think I would be able to come again, but when Peeta sneaks his hands between us to rub my clit, the pressure inside me starts to build again. Looking down at him from my position, seeing him beneath me, sends me over the edge. He's looking at me with such passion and desire, and the feeling of coming with him inside me is something new. I can feel myself clenching around him, causing him to moan my name. I start to tremble, and when I can't keep moving my hips, he takes over, frantically driving into me. When I regain my senses I still feel him hard inside me and he flips us over so that he's hovering above me.

"Is this okay?" he whispers, and I'm amazed by how calm he is, considering his state of arousal.

I raise my head and put my mouth by his ear. "Yes, fuck me, Peeta." That's all the invitation he needs, and he slams himself into me. I lock my legs around him to encourage him to go faster. Deeper. I can feel he's getting close because his thrusts become more uncontrolled and savage. I'm still sensitive from my orgasm, but this feels so good. So fucking good. "I love how you feel inside me. So good. So big. So hard," I manage to let out between his thrusts.

He drives into me once more and, at that, starts to shake, his movements becoming wild and untamed. He drops his head in the crook of my neck as he spills into the condom, moaning in pleasure. We lie like that for a couple of seconds, riding out the high of our orgasms, before he rolls to the side and slides out of me.

"Wow," he pants, catching his breath and wiping the beads of perspiration from his forehead.

I roll over so I can look him in the eyes.

"Yeah, wow," I agree, and I can't hold back a smile.

"Really?" he doesn't sound convinced. Like he didn't hear how I shouted his name when he made me come. Twice.

"Yes, really. Best sex of my life." This earns me a smile, and I think he believes me.

He gets up to dispose of the condom, and as he walks to the bathroom I yell after him, "I was right about that fine ass!" He doesn't acknowledge my comment, but I'm pretty sure he's smiling. It doesn't take long for him to come back, and when he does, he wraps his arms around me, hugging me from behind. Lying like this, without the restriction of clothes, is the safest I've felt in a long time. I don't even fear the nightmares because now I know I have Peeta here to take care of me.

He places kisses along my neck, anywhere he can reach without changing our position, and I fall asleep to his kisses and soft touches.


When I'm stirred awake I wonder if ever fell asleep because we're lying exactly the same, with Peeta holding me from behind, trailing kisses on my shoulders.

"I didn't mean to wake you, but I couldn't help myself," he tells me, his voice raspy from sleep. The light from outside illuminates the room a little, but not much.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know. Dawn?" He doesn't seem to care, and I don't either. All I can concentrate on right now is his lips on me, and even if I'm tired, I'm not too tired for this. Apparently neither is Peeta. I can feel his erection pressing against my ass, and I instinctively bring my hand behind me in search of him. When I find what I'm looking for I start stroking him, and he moans against my skin. "That feels so good," he whispers, thrusting gently into my hand. Peeta drops his hand a bit, dragging his fingers through my already wet folds.

As good as this feels, I want more. "Hold on," I tell him, reaching across the bed to find a condom in the drawer, practically throwing it at him. "You'll have to do it yourself this time."

"That's fine," he chuckles, and I lie down in the same position as before, with my back to him. I hear the tearing of the wrapper and not long after, his lips are back on my shoulders, neck, and arms. He pokes my head with one of his hands, urging me to lift it so that I can use his arm as a pillow. I roll my ass against his groin, revelling in the feel of his hard cock against me. He resumes his ministrations and starts rubbing me again, and I'm glad we don't have to bother with taking our clothes off this time.

"Peeta, please. I need you." He retracts his hand, and I angle my hips to make it easier for him to enter me. I'm so wet that he easily slips inside me, and we both groan in pleasure. He moves the arm I was lying on to allow him to play with my breast, and the other starts rubbing my clit in small circular motions. At this angle he doesn't hit as deep, but he more than makes up for it with the magic his hands can do. "Oh god, it feels so good," I pant.

He pulls back his hips and then enters me again, slowly. This isn't desperate or hard like last night's fucking session, but sensual and caring. Is this what making love means? For me, having sex have always just been that: sex. It's been about pleasure, and pleasure only. But this feels deeper, like we're connecting on an emotional level too. He slowly slides in and out of me as his fingers coax me.

The thrill of having him inside me gradually builds up, and I'm on the verge of coming when I feel him start to shake behind me, but he keeps rubbing me, and the sounds he makes as he comes pushes me over the edge too, and we both cry out in the longest orgasm I've ever had.

When Peeta comes back after disposing the condom, I turn to him and pull up the covers over our heads, like it's shielding us from the rest of the world. But it's thin enough to let through some light, allowing me to see his face. I put my hand on his cheek.

"I'm really glad I met you," I whisper. It's the only thing I can think of to express my feelings to him. I'm not good with words. Do I love him? I don't know. I don't even know what love feels like. I've never felt romantic love before. Maybe Peeta's the one who will show me.

He closes his eyes and gives me a shy smile. "I'm really glad I met you too." He takes a breath, as if mentally preparing himself for something bad to happen. "Before we go to D.C., I'm going to tell you everything."


Author's notes: So that was long overdue;) Please let me know what you think. I'm maxwellandlovelace on tumblr. Thank you for reading!