A/N: Kind of a short chapter and really earns the 'M' rating. In fact, it's just about all 'M' in this one. :) Enjoy.
Reacquainted
It's annoying. My mind is divided, as well as my body. As Peeta bushes against me in bed, I remember how it felt. I remember him touching me, kissing me, making me come. I remember how good that felt, and I want it. But the other thoughts creep in. Nagging at my brain until I want to scream in frustration.
Touch has changed. Touch is bad. Intimate touch, at least. It makes me think of stale alcohol, sweating men, and roughness that I never want to associate with Peeta. My fingers itch to touch every inch of him, familiarizing myself with the pleasure he only introduced me to recently. But I'm scared. My body lies motionless as I contemplate the things I want him to do with me.
I know more now. I know positions that could rock his world. I know how to blow him like a pro. I know what hurts and what feels good. I know my body and I know the male anatomy in a way I didn't when we had sex. Exploring these things is tempting and terrifying all at once.
"Katniss?" he asks, his voice husky from sleep as he cracks an eye open to look at me.
I smile at him but it doesn't reach my eyes. He knows it's fake. He always knows. From the moment I told him I kissed him only for the cameras on the train coming home from the Capitol, he's known how to read me. A defense mechanism he's, sadly, had to cultivate.
He's awake now, rolling over to face me. "What's wrong?" he asks, and I sigh. I told him of my fate for just this reason - to have someone to be honest with.
"I want you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm so afraid to go there."
His face registers several emotions at once. Lust, sadness, and anger being three of the most prominent. "We don't have to do anything," he assures me, and I can see he doesn't get it. It's not about me feeling pressured. I know Peeta would never pressure me into anything. This is about me.
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I know we don't have to do anything. I want to." His eyes widen slightly and I can tell he never expected this. He's been sitting in District 12 resigned to the idea that we fucked for practical purposes and it might never happen again.
"I can never get this right," I sigh, sitting up and hanging my head in my hands. "I don't know how to tell you what I feel. I...it was more than just sex for practical purposes. You made me feel..." I am at a loss for words again. "I can't explain what I felt when we were together. But it was amazing. You are amazing. When I was there, in the Capitol, sex was disgusting. It was humiliating and wrong. I never felt clean. I hated myself. Part of me wants you to wash all those memories away with your body. Part of me worries I'll never be able to enjoy it again."
That's the best I can explain it, and I see understanding in his eyes. He knows what I mean, finally, though not eloquently, I've explained my hesitation and my feelings. I hope he knows that he's more than my crutch. Peeta is a man whom I will never deserve, but if he's willing I'm going to try and hold onto him anyway.
He's warring with himself about something and I'm about to ask what it is when he leans forward and kisses me. "Come here," he says, gently pushing me onto my back as he props himself up on his side next to me.
"Let me try something. If you want me to stop, I swear I will. But I want you to try to relax and just look at me. Feel only me," he requests. My heart races and I nod at him. If I can trust anyone, it's Peeta Mellark.
I keep my eyes on him as he shifts slightly and lifts the tee-shirt I've worn to bed up and over my stomach. He bends down and his lips graze the skin of my stomach so lightly I almost wonder if he's made contact. My core notices though, and clinches with arousal. I let out a sigh of relief.
He looks up at me to check that I'm okay before pulling the shirt higher. I lift my arms over my head and let him pull the item off completely, my bare breasts exposed to him in the morning light. There is no hiding here, and my experience with nakedness has helped me. Two months ago, I'd have shied away from his intense scrutiny in such harsh light. Now, I revel in the look of wonder in his eyes. He doesn't look at me like I'm a possession to fuck and chuck. He looks at me like he never wants to stop looking at me. I blush.
The bruises along my ribs make him frown, though and I feel a shift in his emotions. "Katniss..." he breathes against the skin of my chest as he places an open mouth kiss against my heating skin.
"Please don't judge..." I whisper.
"Never," he says looking at me seriously. "You are beautiful, regardless." I can see a resolve behind the lust in his eyes and I know that he will never stop hating the Capitol. Neither will I.
I'm not given very long to contemplate it, though because I'm almost immediately shocked into pleasure when his mouth closes around my left nipple. "Peeta..." I cry out, my reservations forgotten at the moment. None of those men ever touched me like this. None of them ever cared about my pleasure. I can't confuse this situation. This is all Peeta, and I want it. I want it all.
I become part of the action, moving my hands up to feel the cotton of his shirt, gripping it in my hands and tugging it up. He quickly moves back and pulled the shirt over his head with one hand before descending on my right breast, letting his perfect white teeth bite down gently on the sensitive skin. I pant hard as my body tingles. Holy Fuck, where did he learn this?
My hands move across the soft skin of his broad shoulders as he moves down my body licking and kissing my stomach. I giggle slightly as his lips tickle my ribs and he grins brightly up at me, maintaining eye contact as his lips open up for a kiss just at the edge of my ribcage.
My eyes roll back into my head. This is hot. He is hot. His touch is amazing. Nothing like the first, slightly awkward coupling. Nor like the frenzied couch sex before I left for the Capitol. He was taking his time, utilizing his skills, where ever he got them, and making me putty in his hands. He's tender but confident. He's gentle but firm. He owns me. And I don't even care.
Moving further down, his fingers hook into the side of the boxer shorts I wear and he pulls them, along with my underwear down my legs at once. I hear his breath catch as he takes in my shaved pussy and I bite my lip, wondering if he's pleased or not.
"They did it, when I got there," I say lamely, though I wish I hadn't said anything at all.
"I like it. But I liked it before too. I honestly don't care," he says seriously, leaning down to kiss the smooth skin just above my sex. This surprises me.
"What are you..." I start, but he shakes his head.
"Trust me," he says. "If you want me to stop, remember, I will." I nod hesitantly and let him peel my legs apart and settle between them. I want to clamp them shut, but I take two deep breaths and pull my head back onto my pillow, closing my eyes and just letting myself feel.
His breath is hot against my dripping wet center and I moan before his lips even touch me. When they do, I think I've flow into a new dimension of sensation. One long lick along my slit and I'd let Peeta Mellark do anything to me right now without complaint.
His tongue tastes me completely before finding my clit and making tight circles against it. "Fuck..." I mutter, my hands instinctively going to his head where I wrap all ten fingers into his shaggy blonde locks.
My thighs quiver as he tongues my clit aggressively, moaning against me in his own pleasure. I have no idea why he enjoys this, but if he does...I'm a lucky woman. In this moment, there is nothing but me, him, and this. I don't think about anything else - anyone else.
I sigh in relief as his hand moves up my thigh and he presses two fingers into me. It's not enough, but it's a start. When he quirks his fingers up and hits a spot within me that makes my body jerk off the bed, I know he must have had instruction since last we were together. At this point, I don't care who taught him this, I want to kiss that person.
"Feels good..." I stutter out, as his tongue assaults my clit and his fingers wiggle back and forth on that one spot.
My fingers tighten in his hair as I nearly rip it out of his skull. My winding tighter and tighter, and my legs shake as the power of my orgasm builds. "Close..." I warn, not sure what I expect him to do, but needing him to know I'm about to explode.
He redoubles his efforts and I hear a high pitched squeal escape my mouth. As I arch my back and feel my entire body come undone, more intense than anything I've ever felt before.
I'm barely coherent as he licks me long and slow a few more times before moving away from my sopping core and sliding back up my body. I don't care about the wetness coating his mouth and chin, or the fact that I should probably be disgusted by it, I pull him by the neck to me and kiss him hard. I moan as I taste myself on him, and lick my come from his lips.
He moans again, his cock hard and ready against my thigh. "Fuck me," I tell him desperately. I'm not scared any more. I'm needy. I'm wanton.
He shakes his head. "I won't fuck you. But I'll make love to you." The phrase makes my stomach twist in discomfort, but I don't much care what he calls it at the moment. I want him. He must know what I have with him is nothing like the men of the Capitol. If he wants to call it making love, I don't care. I just need it.
Still, I don't want slow and gentle. A beast has awoken within me and I want him to sate it. I kiss him once more before flipping us over until I'm straddling him. I make quick work of his boxers, shedding them and throwing them across the room before settling over his cock, standing proud and ready for me.
He looks up with me with such adoration I tremble under his gaze. His hands are on my hips, gripping but not directing. I have the control. He wants me to know. I'm more than happy to take it. I reach between us and grab his erection, guiding it to my opening. Sinking down, I let him fill me and I groan in satisfaction. This. This is what it's supposed to feel like. This is what no other man can give me.
I place both hands on his broad chest and set my pace. It's hard and fast. I fuck him. I fuck him the way I need to be fucked and I know it's more than that, but it's that too. Eventually I'll make him understand, there is a place for gentle love making and a place for fucking and sometimes I need it hard, fast, and dirty. I've change. He'll need to get used to it.
From the look of wild abandon on his face, I don't think it will be a tough adjustment to make. "Peeta, yes..." I cry, my hips bucking as i circle my hips.
"Fuck, Katniss. You are going to kill me," he stutters as his fingers dig in deeper. "Not gonna last."
"Me either," I croon. I can already feel my second orgasm approaching. "Come with me," I cry, my hips working over time as my nails bite into his chest. He grips me with all his strength and grunts in the most sexy husky voice I've ever heard, spilling himself inside me for the first time. And for the first time, I'm not disgusted by the sticky come I can already feel seeping from the lips where we are joined.
The throbbing of his cock within me sets me over the edge and I cry out as I clamp down hard on him, collapsing on his chest as my body can no longer hold me up.
I don't realize he's still gripping me until I feel his fingers let go from around my hips and hear the gasp from his lips. "Fuck, Katniss. I'm sorry!" he cries, and I'm confused. Not exactly the reaction I was going for.
I look up at him and see the remorse in his eyes. For a second I wonder if he regrets this. But wasn't it his idea to begin with. "Huh?" I ask inelegantly. He nods his head down to my hips and I follow his gaze. Fingerprint bruises have already blossomed there, and not from the Capitol.
They remind me of the ones I got there, but are so different. I wanted him to grip me tight. I wanted him to lose control. I wanted him rough and hard. "It's nothing," I assure him with a smile, but he doesn't look convinced.
"I'm no better than they are," I spit at me, moving me from his thighs and trying to get out of bed.
"Why not let me be the judge of that," I snap, pulling him back to me. "Don't bring them into this bed with us. I loved every second of that. It's not bad when I want it," I explain. "I'm not made of glass. I won't break. I want you to lose control with me. I want all of it. So stop beating yourself up. You couldn't be like them if you tried."
He sighs and seems to process what I've said. "I didn't use anything either," he admits.
"Not to worry. They gave me a shot in the Capitol to prevent pregnancy," I explain.
He relaxes a bit. "I hadn't intended on that. I only wanted to make you feel good."
"Peeta, you have to stop treating this like you are my personal orgasm machine," I laugh. "I want us to feed off each other. I want us to both enjoy everything. And you helped me so much this morning. I needed this. I needed to separate what they did to me from what I want to do with you."
He smiles then. "Fucking amazing, wasn't it?"
I can't help it, I grin in return. "Yep."