Author's Note—Thanks for your patience…almost there, at least with this story arc. I wouldn't be opposed to leaving this fic open-ended, though, and exploring this Everlark universe with more cases in the future. This chapter, however, will put to rest all the sexual tension. I know—finally.
As always, all mistakes are mine, and El, this is for you. Love you.
~*~Katniss~*~
The second Peeta thrusts into me he halts. I know instantly that he knows. I grit my teeth through the slight discomfort I feel, and pray my face doesn't reveal my embarrassment. How did I ever think he wouldn't notice?
"Katniss," he whispers, staring down at me. His blue eyes bore into me, unreadable. Is he horrified? Disgusted? Does he think I'm some kind of a freak for still being a virgin?
Dammit. Why didn't I tell him?
I suck in a breath when he shifts subtly and the movement stretches me more. I wince, trying to adjust to the surreal but nonetheless foreign feeling of him inside me. He keeps staring down at me, waiting for an answer, but my silence hangs between us, making the mere inches separating our mouths feel like miles.
He swallows. "Are you…?" The rest of his question drifts off. He shakes his head, incredulity marking his features. I can't really tell if it's a good incredulous or an oh-shit-what-did-I-just-do incredulous. I exhale through my nose and nod once.
"I didn't think…I hoped it wouldn't a big deal." I try to look away, but his finger on my chin forces me to hold his gaze. His eyes fill empathy and he places a light kiss on my lips.
"It's not a big deal. Not at all. But I guess maybe I don't understand why didn't you just tell me?" he asks softly, echoing my earlier thought, and I can hear the genuine sincerity in his voice.
"I don't know," I whisper. He shifts his weight once more, and the subtle motion of his hips makes me acutely aware of the intimate way we're connected as we're having this awkward conversation, yet Peeta seems unfazed. He smiles and brushes his thumb along my lower lip. "I just can't believe…I mean…how am I so lucky to be your first?" I have to crack a tiny smile at the fact that he somehow manages to make it sound like being a virgin at 26 is a good thing, like I've done him a favor.
"I'm serious," he asserts. "Please don't be ashamed or embarrassed or whatever." He grimaces slightly.
"What's wrong?" I ask. His jaw tightens and the cords in his neck go taut. He shakes his head.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong at all. It's…you feel so fucking good. It's taking all my willpower not to just…you know." He leans down and takes my top lip between his in a slow, gentle kiss. Then he traces my bottom lip with his thumb again. "Now, tell me how it is that I'm the first guy to be with you."
I blow out a calming breath as I gather both my words and my courage. "It's not like I set out to stay a virgin. I wasn't saving myself or anything. I mean, I do need sex to mean something, but I've…I've just never met a guy I wanted to be with…like this. You are the first," I admit softly.
"Fuck, Katniss." The unfiltered joy that washes across his face is enough to bolster my confidence to keep baring my soul to him.
"I guess it's partially because I've tended to keep my distance from guys. Relationships complicate things and I didn't need the distractions. I had things all planned out from the time I graduated high school. I was going to become a cop, and to be the best cop I could be so I could make detective. And once I accomplished that goal…well, I just didn't have much free time for dating, and all the guys my friends tried to push on me were losers and not worth the little time I did have and..." I trail off, suddenly aware that the words are just pouring out of me like a spigot and I'm rambling.
Peeta remains perfectly quiet, as if he's still waiting for more despite all I've just revealed. I drop my eyes again. "Besides, everyone close to me always seems to gets taken away. It's been easier to not let anyone get close. This way, I can't lose anyone else I love."
"But you're letting me in," he says quietly. I feel his lips move along my jaw. I look up to him and swallow hard.
"I'm taking a risk. I know that."
"This—us—it's not a risk. I promise," he says. "Because now that I'm here with you I'm not going anywhere. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this? How long I've wanted you?" His breath skates across my lips. "You can't know. You can't." He canters his hips, thrusting shallowly. I whimper and hitch my legs higher on his thighs, to open myself wider to him. His next thrust goes deeper and he groans. His eyes close briefly, but he opens them quickly and locks those blue irises on me. The way our bodies are connecting somehow seems less intimate than the way our eyes are. It would probably terrify me if it didn't feel so damn perfect.
Peeta drops his mouth to my nipple, using the tip of his tongue to tease it back to a peak. He watches me with awe and reverence as he slowly exhales over the stiff bud, then chases the chill by drawing it into the warm, wet heat of his mouth. I shudder and rake my nails across his back. He releases my nipple and brings his mouth up to mine. He seizes my lips and presses them apart instantly. I draw his tongue inside, allowing it to explore every crevice and ridge of my mouth. He keeps pumping in and out of me unhurriedly and I rock with him, clinging to his shoulders, getting lost in the tandem strokes of his tongue and his cock. The pain I felt earlier has eased to a delicious kind of burn and I'm on fire everywhere.
"You okay?" he asks. I nod, unable to form a coherent thought. Everything about the moment threatens to overwhelm me: The heated blood racing through my veins. The delicious shivers sliding up and down my spine. The coil tightening low in my abdomen. But it's the heaviness settling in my chest that hits me the hardest. Because that can only mean one thing: I've fallen in love with Peeta Mellark. This—him and me—it was always going to happen. We were meant to be together, partners in every way.
"You feel so amazing," he rasps, dragging his nose down my cheek. He braces his weight on one arm and curls his other arm beneath my thigh, raising my hips to change the angle at which he drives into me. The head of his cock rubs my clit each time he withdraws. I gasp and moan his name. His fingers tense, pressing into the back of my thigh, and he gives a little growl.
"I'm so used to you calling me Mellark but fuck if I don't I love hearing you say my name like that." My eyelids flutter closed as I try to fight the climax that he's fast urging me towards.
"Peeta," I moan again.
"Yes," he whispers back, right before his lips land back on mine. I trace the curve of his upper lip with my tongue. His mouth opens on another fevered groan and his tongue darts out to meet mine. His thrusts become increasingly faster and harder. I lift my pelvis to meet his, trying to keep up with the rhythm he sets. He smiles against my mouth and grips my thigh tighter. His other hand skims up my side to briefly squeeze my breast. I let my fingers glide up and down his back, feeling the muscles alternately bow and flex with each of his movements.
"You okay?" he asks, nuzzling my cheek with his nose.
"Yes," I gasp out between whimpers. "Fine. Good. So good." He rests his forehead on mine and our gazes lock. He slides his hand between my legs and rubs my clit. It's too much. The tension coiling in me snaps and I succumb to it. I cry out and my eyes slip shut. Waves of pleasure radiate through my entire body. I swear I can even feel them in my toes. It's not like anything I've ever felt before; it's much more intense than any orgasm I've brought myself to.
"Open your eyes. I want you to see what you do to me." I lock my gaze on him as his hips rock frantically. My inner walls clench around him, still pulsing from my climax. I see his jaw flex and his neck muscles strain. His lower body tenses and his cock throbs inside me as he comes. His handsome features contorted in the throes of his orgasm might be the sexiest sight I've ever seen.
"See?" he whispers, feathering kisses along my damp forehead. He grins down at me, his face a picture of total bliss. "You see the effect you have on me?"
"Mmm hmm," I hum, rubbing his back in slow circles. I close my eyes and sigh happily. The last tendrils of my orgasm curl through me and I, too, feel completely sated. Peeta's warm lips graze both my eyelids and then they settle on my mouth. I give in to his gentle kiss; our tongues duel lazily. He starts to soften inside of me, and a moment later, he draws back.
"Let me go take care of this," he says huskily, gesturing down to his groin. He places a kiss on the tip of my nose and then rolls off of me. I prop myself up on one elbow to watch him saunter towards the door. My eyes automatically hone in on his perfectly toned ass. He turns and flashes me a knowing smirk before disappearing into the hall. I flop back against the pillows, throwing one arm above my head. I'm unable to suppress my giddy smile as I bask in the afterglow of all that has just transpired between Peeta and me.
~*~Peeta~*~
I toss the used condom into the trash and grab a washcloth from the linen closet. Letting the tap run warm, I dampen the cloth and then pad back into my bedroom. As I approach the bed, I have to pause and soak up the image of Katniss sprawled across my sheets. Her eyes are closed, her beautiful features drawn into an expression of complete satisfaction. Her dark hair is fanned out across the pillow. Her chest rises and falls rhythmically, her perfect tits on display. Those delectable little nipples are puckered tight, and the urge to get them back in my mouth assaults me. A blissful sigh parts her lips and her tongue glides along the lower swell briefly before she snares it in her teeth. My grin spreads and I kneel beside her on the bed. Her eyes flutter open and her mouth twists into a shy smile.
"Were you staring at me?" she asks.
"Guilty as charged," I admit, not an ounce of shame in my voice. "It's a fucking beautiful sight, you naked in my bed. I might never let you leave." Gently, I nudge her thighs apart and lean forward to trail kisses along the crease of her pelvis. She fidgets a little as I begin to swab the washcloth between her legs. I fasten my gaze on her and continue to clean away the evidence of her orgasm. I see the flicker of embarrassment in her silver irises when I finish and lay the stained cloth on my nightstand. I shake my head at her and drag the tip of my index finger along her breastbone. Her nostrils flare and her breath catches.
"Don't," I warn. "I told you there was nothing to be ashamed of. And I'll say it again, Katniss. I don't know how I got so lucky to be your first, but you made me so fucking happy tonight. Thank you." I trace the underside of her left breast with my finger. My groin prickles with heat and my cock twitches as her nipple hardens again before my eyes. I throw my leg over her waist and straddle her. She exhales softly as my thumb joins my finger to play with the taut little bud. Her breath fans across my lips, coming in shallow puffs.
"Peeta," she whispers. Her tongue lingers on her bottom lip and her eyes darken with renewed lust. She reaches for me, her hand sliding around my shoulder as she attempts to pull me down to her. At that precise moment, her stomach growls loudly. I snicker and glide my palm down to rub her belly.
"Hungry?"
"Not for food," she purrs, her hand continuing its descent along my spine. Just as she palms my ass, her stomach rumbles louder, betraying her. I laugh at the scowl that steals across her face. Dropping my mouth to hers, I take her top lip between mine and kiss her soundly.
"Tell you what." I pause to I kiss her again. "Let's go make something to eat." I hitch her leg up on my hip and run my tongue just below her jawbone. I suckle the skin below her earlobe and feel her nipples pebble. My mouth skims her ear. "And then we can pick up right where we left off. Of course, if I happen to fuck you on the kitchen counter before that—" I hear her breath catch, and abruptly she seals her mouth to mine. We share one more lingering kiss and then I climb off of her and out of the bed. I scan the floor for her bra and panties, but she shakes her head. She strolls past me, stopping next to my dresser. Holding my gaze with a coy smile, she trails her fingertips down the top two drawers, yanking on the handles of the third drawer. That teasing smile turns triumphant as she pulls out one of my t-shirts. She slips it over her head and down over her naked breasts. The shirt swims on her small frame, landing a few inches above her knees, but my dick takes immediate notice. It's a fucking turn-on to see her wearing my clothes. Wearing nothing but my clothes.
"I have several of these at home," she says, motioning to the Panem Police Academy logo spanning her chest, "but I'm keeping this one."
"It's yours," I growl, striding towards her. "I'll overlook the theft, Detective Everdeen." I seize her, easily wrapping my fingers around her bicep, and crush my mouth to hers. Her lips part instantly, her tongue darting out to coil around mine. My hands slip beneath the hem of the shirt, cupping her tight little ass, and she grinds her pelvis into my hard-on. Her palms skim down my biceps, raising goose bumps on both my arms, and a second later, she wrests her lips away. She arcs a brow at me and sinks to her knees. Her thumbs rub up and down my inner thighs and then I feel her warm lips trailing kisses along the crease of my groin. I groan out her name when her hand wraps around the base of my cock and she licks up the length of me once, slowly. Her tongue swirls around the crown, and she glances up at me, her lids nearly shuttered with desire. Her lips tip up in one of those seductively shy smiles. Then her warm, wet mouth engulfs my dick.
"Oh, fuck," I curse again, planting my palms atop the dresser. She gives a little hum of triumph and takes me deeper. Her mouth glides up and down my cock, her tongue occasionally joining in. She cups my balls and uses her thumb to tease the sensitive skin beneath my sac. My eyes keep threatening to close as the pressure builds low in my groin, but I fight it. I want to watch every fucking second of what she's doing to me. I thread a hand into her loose hair and moan my approval. The sight of her taking me in and out of her mouth, combined with the way she's looking up at me, pushes me closer and closer to the edge. That blissful tingling sensation migrates from my balls into the base of my cock.
She pauses to catch her breath, and then starts a slow, sensual tease using her hand and her mouth in alternating pulls. I see her free hand move, and drop my gaze, to follow her hand. She slips it between her legs. She moans, and the sound vibrates against me. It's too much, knowing she's so turned on by what she's doing to me that she's touching herself.
"Goddamn, Katniss." I fist her hair. My cock stiffens before I can warn her that I'm coming. All of my muscles seize up and I erupt in her mouth. She doesn't stop her ministrations. Her tongue whorls around my pulsing cock as she coaxes me through my orgasm. Once she's swallowed everything I have to give, she stands up and deliberately licks her lips. As if I hadn't just climaxed, her tongue savoring whatever of me is left on her lips spikes lust in my veins all over again. How the fuck am I ever going to get enough of this woman?
~*~Katniss~*~
"You are fucking amazing," he praises, slipping his arm around my waist. His hand sneaks beneath the hem of his shirt and he cups my ass as he draws me to him. I smile against his mouth and let his tongue slide over mine. We share a short, hot kiss.
"I almost don't want to know how you learned to do that," he says, breathing heavily. I can hear the faintest note of jealousy in his voice. I splay my palm over his pectoral and let my hand glide over the deliciously cut muscles of his abdomen.
None of my previous relationships, if you can even call them that, progressed to the point where oral sex entered the equation. And truthfully, I never considered that I could enjoy giving head to a guy. But I love everything about pleasuring Peeta.
I say, "No learning. Self-taught." He catches my hand and stills it against his stomach.
"Then you're even more fucking amazing." He squeezes my butt again and brings me flush against him, trapping our hands between our bodies. "And just so you know, it was watching you put your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours that sent me over the edge." A little gasp escapes me and a twinge of arousal tugs at my core. Peeta's mouth curves into a devilishly sexy grin.
"Did it get you wet, having my cock in your mouth?"
"Yes," I whisper, more warmth flooding the juncture of my thighs. His palm edges downward. I inhale sharply and my breath traps as I feel his fingers part my damp folds. His grin broadens. He lifts his hand to his lips and holds my gaze as he sucks his fingers into his mouth.
"So fucking sweet." He arches a brow at me and then steps back. My eyes flit down and widen. His cock is rock-hard again. I feel another pull low in my abdomen. I snare my lower lip in my teeth and watch him cross the room to the same drawer where I found the shirt I'm currently wearing. He retrieves a pair of sweatpants and deftly yanks them up his legs. His erection tents the front of them almost immediately. The sweats ride low enough on his hips to offer up an enticing peek at his outer obliques. Much to my disappointment, he slips a t-shirt down over his head. We stare a lengthy, heated stare before he curls a finger and beckons me.
"We have to go eat something. Now." The words come out hoarse in his struggle to rein in his lust. "Because if we don't leave this room right this minute, I'm going to have to eat you." The carnal gleam in his eye leaves no question as to what he means by that. My core throbs. He slants his mouth over mine and his tongue swathes my lower lip teasingly as he draws back. He reaches for the doorknob. A muted thumping sound commences. Peeta throws open the door, and we both glance down to see Ilsa sitting patiently in front of us, her tongue lolling out and her tail beating against the hardwood floor like a metronome.
"How did she know?" I marvel as Peeta snaps his fingers and Ilsa bounds back down the hall, pausing to glance back at us.
He replies, "Some bizarre dog sixth sense. She always knows when I'm right outside a door." I follow him into the kitchen. He opens a cabinet and reaches for something. I shamelessly ogle the flex of his back muscles under the thin t-shirt and the way his sweats stretch across his ass. He catches my eye as he closes the cabinet, and his eyes dance with amusement.
"Now who's staring?" he teases, opening the zippered pouch of dog treats. My mouth hooks up and I shrug, not at all sorry for admiring the view. He grins back at me before turning his attention to Ilsa, who sits patiently at our feet. Peeta urges one of the little t-bone shaped treats into my palm, and in turn, I extend my hand towards Ilsa. For such an energetic dog she's almost delicate in how she takes the treat from me. "Good girl," he praises, and she trots off to lie down near the small fireplace in the main room.
"So," he curls his arm around my waist and tugs me towards him, "what shall it be, Everdeen? We can go with your earlier suggestion of French toast, or I can see what kind of stuff is kicking around the fridge for an omelet, or—" he cranes his neck around me to peer at the microwave clock, "we could technically still have something delivered. Pizza. Chinese. Thai. All close."
I bite my lip and contemplate the options. My nerves tingle at the thought of Peeta's mouth between my legs. Delivery would definitely leave us with some time for that. But I kind of prefer the idea of us making something together, and then getting back to the dirty stuff after. I guess this is another sign of just how deeply I'm in this. The closed-off Katniss would never want to do anything remotely domestic with a guy.
I extricate myself from his embrace and open the fridge door. I scan the shelves and grab the carton of eggs I had been searching for. Playfully I bump his hip. "Let's see what you've got, Mellark." He takes the eggs from me and sets them on the counter, then catches me around the waist and draws me flush against his hard body.
"Prepare to have your mind blown, sweetheart." His mouth hovers inches from mine. "Because I make the best damn French toast outside of Paris, France." I purse my lips at him.
"Lucky for you I've never been to Paris."
"I haven't, either, actually," he replies, nuzzling my nose with the tip of his. "But I hear it's best to visit the City of Lights with someone you love." His voice drops into that husky register and my body reacts accordingly. My nipples peak against the soft cotton of his t-shirt and goose bumps race along my arms.
"Someday," he adds, and there's a note of promise in the way he says the word that has my heart clenching. He squeezes my hip and releases me. I watch him as he rummages through a cabinet and emerges with a skillet in his hand.
I'm not really surprised to discover cooking with Peeta is a thoroughly enjoyable experience, but it takes much longer than it should to prepare a few slices of French toast and fry up some bacon, mostly because we can't keep our hands or lips off of each other. But eventually we settle at the table, Peeta in a chair and me perched on his lap, at his insistence.
He cuts into the slab of French toast piled on the single plate before us and dredges it through the syrup. Cupping his palm beneath the fork, he raises it to my mouth. I part my lips and take the offered bite of French toast. His brows arch and he stares at me expectantly as I start to chew. Oh my God, it's delicious. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given the impressive picnic spread he had prepared for our botched first date. I have to stifle a moan of delight; wanting to toy with him a little, I try to keep my expression impassive as I swallow.
"Well?" he asks. I shrug and motion down to the plate.
"I might need another sample before I make a judgment." The right corner of his mouth twitches, but he obediently cuts off another wedge of French toast. This time when it lifts it towards me, he deliberately drags the fork along my lower lip, leaving a trail of syrup in its wake. I open my mouth to accept the forkful, but he pulls it back.
"You're not a very good actress, sweetheart," he whispers, leaning in. His tongue swathes along my lip, licking away the sticky syrup. He grins at me as he pops the French toast into his mouth. He brandishes the empty fork and I lunge to snatch it from him.
"Ah, ah," he scolds. "Not until you give me your verdict." I narrow my eyes. Two can play at his game. I shift in his lap, shimmying my hips so the t-shirt I wear rides up over them. Then I swing my leg over his thigh and straddle him. I let my fingers walk down the firm plane of his stomach and trace his navel through the fabric of his t-shirt. With my other hand, I reach over and swipe my index finger through the puddle of syrup on the plate. Locking eyes with Peeta, I rest the tip of my finger on my teeth, then slowly suck the digit into my mouth. Almost instantly I feel him stiffen beneath me, and I rock forward, rubbing myself against the rapidly swelling bulge in his sweats.
"You don't fight fair, Everdeen," he breathes, tangling his hand in my hair and guiding my mouth closer to his.
"That's what you get for withholding food from me." I brush my lips over his. He tightens his grip on my left hip and I gasp when he slides his tongue between my lips, easily urging them apart. The kiss quickly escalates, his tongue plunging in and out of my mouth, mimicking the rhythmic thrusting motion of his hips.
"It's without a doubt the best French toast I've ever had," I say breathlessly, when we break apart for much needed air. "But can we please finish eating it, fast?" He chuckles and dips his mouth to tease my erect nipple through the cotton t-shirt. I squirm, arousal coursing through me, spearing between my legs. With one strong arm locked around me, Peeta stands, just enough to yank his sweats down. A shock of pleasure zaps every cell in my body as he nestles me against his bare cock.
"Peeta," I whimper, "we don't have a condom—" His lips trap mine, silencing me. I respond to the slow pulls of his mouth. He cradles me, one hand on the small of my back, and I glide easily along his cock, aided by the wet heat between my legs.
"I'm not going to fuck you yet," he murmurs. "But I'm still going to make you come with my cock." He kisses me again and plays with my nipple, first over the shirt, and then he eagerly slides his hand beneath the hem to cup my bare breast. His hand nudges me forward, coaxing me to start undulating my hips. The movement rubs my clit against the hot, hard length of him. My breath catches and I feel the sweet tension in my belly coiling fast. A needy moan falls from my lips, and he quickly silences me by sealing his mouth over mine.
"You have to be quiet. As much as I love those sounds you make, I don't want Ilsa to hear you and come in here to investigate." The dog. I completely forgot that we're not entirely alone. Mutely, I nod and bite my lip to restrain myself from crying out when Peeta's mouth starts nuzzling that spot on my neck that seems to be tethered right to my core. The first waves of bliss ebb outward and I know I'm getting close to breaking. His fingers continue to pluck at my nipples and his mouth skims upward to suck on my earlobe. I rock my pelvis faster and arch my back, my mouth falling open in a silent scream as the pleasure becomes too much and I succumb to it. All of my muscles seem to contract simultaneously and I pant through my climax, vaguely cognizant of Peeta whispering filthy words of encouragement in my ear. Several aftershocks ripple through me from the way his cock keeps stimulating my sensitive clit. I lower my chin and look directly into his hooded eyes.
"I could watch you come for hours," he says hoarsely.
I purse my lips and blow out a slow breath. "How is it possible?" I ask. Concern knits his brows and he cups my cheek tenderly.
"How is what possible?"
I shake my head absently. "This." I gesture down to where his cock is nestled between my thighs. "Feeling like I'll never get enough of you." The right side of his mouth lifts in a half-grin.
"Oh, the feeling is mutual, Everdeen." He leans forward, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth without reservation. As I melt into his kiss, my only coherent thought is that I never want this night to end.