Hello! Sorry I haven't updated. I really have no excuse other than I felt a little out of touch with Hunger Games lately. I need to read the books again, because I'm forgetting stuff. I hope the characterization in this chapter is not completely off.

WARNING! This chapter does have lemony goodness in it. Basically this is why this story is rated M guys. Little nervous about this *wrings hands* I think they are ready for this.

I will be working on a chapter soon that has Peeta and Katniss fight…hee hee. I'm evil.

PLEASE let me know what you think in a REVIEW. That would make my day and really motivate me to keep working.

I'm also working on a couple of stories right now for Twilight (AH), so be on the lookout for those please. Just give it a chance.

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THANK YOU!

"What are thinking about?" Peeta startles me.

I have been lying in bed after a nap during the day. Naps I never take, but my mind seemed to want to the rest. I dreamed of Peeta and me. The dream was one of the most intense and pleasurable things I'd ever experienced, and yet it was just a dream.

I dreamed I was showering, the heat of the water steaming up the bathroom making the scene ethereal. I can hardly see in front of me, and the steam clings to my skin. Then suddenly I turn around, and he is there.

I am not surprised only happy to see him. I smile wide and free. I watch as he admires my body. When I look down there are no scars, no reminders of the horrible experiences before. My hands search for any evidence, but they are gone. I look back up to Peeta to see him softly smiling.

"You are so beautiful." He whispers reverently. I believe him strangely, but I do not question it.

The scene changes and we are in bed, both nude. As I watch the dream I instantly feel some embarrassment over it, but my dream self is completely comfortable. I try to focus on that feeling.

His touch is exquisite. Fire spreads across my skin and settles in deep. His words are breathtaking. Every single proclamation of love is saved inside and absolutely believed. I observe with great anticipation as his hands drifts down my body to the apex of my legs. I am not completely sure what will happen, but I can only surmise it has to be something satisfying.

My body is wracked with such strong sensations that my eyes close tightly even though I wish to see Peeta's face. The ecstasy is so unbelievable that my senses and other desires are cut off. I only focus on the pleasure.

He is over me then, rocking back and forth. The dream becomes disjointed, choppy. Images of his hands on me, my hands on him as well as our bodies tangled.

I wake up with the white of afternoon light in my eyes. I feel like I have just surfaced from heaven as I feel reality seep into my veins once more. My mind wanders back to the dream, and I am consumed by the feeling it created. Is this kind of bodily enjoyment possible? I am innocent, but not completely incompetent when it comes to sex. I know the mechanics and I've heard of people enjoying it, but I had not anticipated it.

"Katniss?" He asks me as lays down next me. I still have not answered his first question.

I turn to him. His hair is brushed away from his face, and I see a little flour caught just on his hairline. I reach for it and brush it off, and then my attention is brought to the stubble of his chin. I absentmindedly allow my hand to linger there before it finally returns to my side.

He turns to his side and comes closer. His hand takes a piece of stray hair and tucks it behind my ear. It's something he often does, and I feel the affection of the tiny gesture.

"Peeta?"

"Mmm?" He hums.

"Sometimes when you dream," I swallow down my cowardice to stop talking and continue, "When you are not having a nightmare I mean…do you dream regular dreams?"

His brow wrinkles quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." I answer back after a moment losing my nerve. I move my face to look back out the window. He gently places his hand on my face, and urges me to look at him.

"What's this about?" He asks. I look at him hoping he could read my mind, but fearing that as well.

"Did you have a good dream? Is that what you mean?" His finger traces my cheekbone. I try to not let the touch hypnotize me, but he has such a profound effect on me. I nod to him.

"That's great." His smile is big and beautiful, and it would be a little contagious if I wasn't so nervous and self-conscious. But then I remind myself that I'm the one putting myself out there.

"What did you dream about?" His question so innocent, and my almost answer not at all. It overwhelms me and I can do nothing but bite my lip. I huff out a breath feeling this was a lot more difficult than it should be.

"Did you dream about me?" Peeta finally asks, letting me off the hook. When I look over to him he's smiling the widest smile I've ever seen.

I cover my face with my hands and groan. Humiliation has just overtaken me to the point of sickness. Why am I being so immature about this?

"Look I'm not that girl." I mumble more to myself than to him.

He gently takes my hands away from my face. "What do you mean you're "not that girl"?"

"I can't talk about this stuff without feeling incredibly uncomfortable. I know it doesn't make sense, but it makes me feel stupid."

Right when I'm done complaining Peeta lays a searing kiss on me. It doesn't take me long to respond to him, and soon we are kissing with abandon. Before I become completely frenzied by him, and willing to do almost anything, he stops.

"Did that feel stupid?" His voice is hoarse and breathless. I slowly shake my head no. "Then don't feel that way talking about it. It's just you and me. We don't have an audience."

When he says "we don't have an audience" suddenly I'm transported back to the cave when we did. When I was faking. When I felt stupid, but did it anyway to save both of our lives. I sigh out heavy, still feeling the giant boulder on my chest that will always be there reminding me of what I've been through.

"Hey, where'd you go?" He holds onto one of my hands.

I'm hesitant to tell him, but I do anyway. "The cave."

He understands immediately. He lies down on his back. "Why did you think of that?"

"The audience comment." I put my hand over my eyes knowing I've ruined the moment. "Sorry, I couldn't help it."

"It's okay." He says as he gathers me in his arms. "I really can't complain about that when I can't help it either."

He lets us lay there comfortable and silent awhile before he asks me again. "What was the dream about? Us…together?"

He says it more politely than a typical man would, and I'm thankful. I feel a little more at ease with a certain vocabulary in this issue.

"Yes." I say and bury my head in his chest and begin feeling like an idiot again. Although it's still there, it's not as bad as it was before.

"Are you worried that will happen? Cause I'm okay with whatever you are ready for. I'm not pushing and we don't have to ever…"

"I want to." I blurt out. His eyes are surprised and his mouth is trying to smile.

"Right now?" He's joking with me, but I know he wants an answer as much as I would want one in his position.

"No. Yes." I become exasperated. "I don't know." I pull away for him.

We lay there for a moment understanding the change that is coming over us. I feel in some strange way more of an adult. It's like leaving some childlike state of mind, but I can't really remember just being a kid.

"Come here." He says as he reaches for me.

I allow his arms around me again. He kisses my forehead, and then my cheeks. His fingertips run along my scalp. I am content and happy with him so close to me again. He checks my eyes before he kisses my mouth, almost chaste and very sweet. Then he gives me a little more, and my contentment changes. Once more urgency simmers inside me. I'm always astonished he can create this feeling in me.

When his tongue touches my lips I feel as if he is lighting a fire. His hands cup my face, and one rolls down my side settling on my thigh. His grip tightens and loosens as if he's waiting for me to stop this exercise, but I can't seem to make myself stop. I grab at his shirt and take it off. Suddenly he takes full grasp of my leg and hitches it over his hip.

The position is wonderful, but I need more. I roll him over, and soon I am on top of him leaning over to kiss him. I feel his hardness against me. I can't understand how I feel so overjoyed that I can make him want me. It's some odd accomplishment in my eyes. I feel brave and wild, and all too soon for thought my shirt is off completely. He immediate grabs at my nude breasts.

I let him touch me to my benefit, but then I think of the other day when he had to leave me. He in a small way suffers because I never pay any attention to him. I take his hands into my own, and I kiss each one before laying them at his sides. I lean back and scoot myself down one of his legs. His pants are tented, and he is breathing heavy and desperate. I look at this new obstacle, and try to gain some nerve to move forward.

It's not necessarily that I'm scared of touching him. It's that I'm unsure exactly what to do, and that makes me nervous. What if I do something wrong, touch him the wrong way? Can I hurt him?

We are both quiet aside from our quickening breath as I tentatively reach out to touch him through his pants. When I reach him he moans loudly. When I take my hand and move down his length he rolls his head back as if it's involuntary. Triumph soars through me in such intoxicating manner.

I'm amazed how hard he is now that I'm inspecting him finally. I wonder how all of him will fit into me whenever we do decide to take the next step.

"Can I take them off?" At first I am confused over his request. I then I understand that he wants to take his pants off.

I swallow down my insecurities and fear, and decide that I've had worse things to worry and fear over. I am strong and capable woman. This is was just another test of life, and I could get through it happily if only I would stop being distressed over it.

I reach for the waistband of his pants myself. When I pull them down I also accidently pull down his boxers. There suddenly he is before me. I find myself staring unabashedly. He's beautiful in a way, but also very intimidating. I find that my courage is being sucked out of me, but my curiosity and need to make him feel good keeps me on track with any activity we might engage in. I trust him, and that's all that matters.

The tips of my fingers touch him, and once more Peeta reacts pleasurably. I'm astounded how soft he is. It's like silk drawn over steel. The contrast has me so engrossed that I easily find a rhythm of touching him that seems to please Peeta.

"Katniss." He sighs out my name. I stop and wait for him to look at me.

"Am I doing this right?" I ask letting my hand go up and down again. Peeta stifles a groan.

He stops me a moment, and leans over to his nightstand pulling a bottle out. He puts some liquid in his hand, and takes my hand into his and puts me back where I was.

"You can grasp on tighter." His hands correct me and I continue.

Peeta lays back, and grips the sheets underneath him. I watch with so much joy knowing I can make him feel this way. I then start to imagine him inside me like in the dream. It's hard to picture since I'm unsure exactly how we are supposed to fit together, but I feel a stirring inside of me. Its anticipation and hunger mixed.

"Come lay down next me and do it." He asks. I do as he says, and I find I like the closeness of having him near as I help relieve him. He kisses me lips, and his moans are so magical to me.

He suddenly rolls to his side as I'm still holding him. "Roll to your side for me." I do and then he takes my leg and puts it over waist. "Please let me touch you." He almost begs.

I nod my head uncertain of what he will do.

I focus on stroking him earnestly, and then I feel his hand cup me over my pajama pants in between my legs. Instinctively my hips move forward almost to meet him. I look up to him fearing this out of control feeling, but he whispers to me, "It will be alright."

He gently rubs me until suddenly he finds a spot that makes me gasp. My hand falters, and almost slips away from him. "You see. I promise I can make you feel good, Katniss."

He kisses me hard and needy, and the pressure of his hand increases. It's perfect the sensation he's creating as if by some miracle. This was what I dreamed of, feeling this way.

I close my eyes and the sensation seems to increase. I have a hard time focusing on Peeta. I begin to tell him to stop so that I may pleasure him, but he starts rubbing me in earnest and I'm lost. This precipice appears in front me, and all I want to do is fall over into the sweet oblivion it offers.

Suddenly, I'm there and then not. I'm floating yet completely grounded. I'm gasping out trying my best not to make any embarrassing noises, but I know I've moaned and called out Peeta's name. When finally I am able to open my eyes and focus, I see that I've never let go of Peeta.

He is watching me with a look of awe on his face. He rolls onto his back, and started to stroke himself while holding onto me.

"I want to." I say lowly. He nods and lets me.

"Are you sure?" He looks a little worried. I answer him by continuing.

It doesn't take long for Peeta to moan loudly, still my hand, and then finally achieve his release. I try to not to think of the mess, but only that he is smiling contently. He looks to me and kisses me soundly.

"I love you." He looks so carefree, so happy. This was worth it.

He gets up and cleans himself off, and then lies back down with me. His arms encircle me.

"Thank you." He whispers before giving me a little squeeze. "I know that must have been difficult for you."

"It was very worth it, Peeta." I admit to him.

"You are so beautiful when you let go." He traces the blush that forms along my cheeks and neck. "Do you feel at least a little better?"

I smile at him. "Yes, that was…what I essentially dreamed about."

"Hopefully better." He looks mischievous. I laugh at him and nod. He looks rather pleased.

I know the next step is very close. I know it will change everything, much as this afternoon changed everything. I'm ready for it, when the time is right. I'm ready because Peeta is all I need, and will ever want.