Chapter 14

Katniss's POV

I retire to my guest room that night, Anton consuming my thoughts. Every time I wander down the path of feelings of lust and love towards my friend, I bat them away – but it gets weaker each time. I don't have time for this. I don't have time to fall in love, I think. I am far too old for this young man. The excuse now seems downright desperate, even to me. Finally, another's thoughts interrupt my own. Peeta's. I know exactly what he would say in a situation like this – and it does not help my case.

"There you go again, putting up those walls whenever someone reaches out to you." They were words that he spoke to me – and that stuck with me – in the first year of our marriage, when we were trying to put the pieces of our lives back together. I flop down on the bed, glad that thoughts of my husband have at least distracted me from the pondering at hand. Oh, how I wish I could have him here now, with his strong arms around me!

Of their own accord, my hands reach into my undergarments and find my clit. I imagine Peeta kissing me, putting his hands on me, making love to me in our bed or on a blanket in Twelve's beautiful meadow…..

I imagine his laugh, his smile, his dark hair and green eyes…..

Wait – dark hair and green eyes? I realize the image in my head has morphed into Anton. Strangely, though, I do not push it away. I can only rub my clit faster, and I let out a moan. I breathe out his name, and not the name of my dead husband. "Anton….."

My hand rubs in a frenzy now, as I imagine that it is Anton doing this to me. My fingers dig into my wetness, silently willing an imaginary Anton to push in with his likely beautiful member. Push in harder, faster, deeper…..

I moan again and find the lower half of my body bucking into my own hand. I silently beg the Anton who is really not there to not stop, to keep going until I am ready and waiting…..

"Anton!" With an airy scream, fluid bursts from my center, across my hands and spills unapologetically down my inner thighs. I quickly lick my fingers clean and purify myself. A tiny part of me feels horrified at what I have just indulged myself in, but it is too late. The damage is done. All that I am left with is one now undeniable truth.

I am hopelessly in love with Anton Yelcandle.

What's more, a second more terrifying truth grips me: I have to tell him.

I square my shoulders bravely. And so I shall. As soon as I return to Twelve, I will confess my love to my best friend. I do not know how he will react, but I will be ready for whatever comes next….

Anton's POV

Back in Twelve, I miss Katniss terribly. What has this beautiful woman done to me? I want desperately to hold her, kiss her, make love to her until she is begging to be released. I have never had sex with a woman in my entire life, yet I know there is no one I would rather have for my first time than the widowed Mockingjay herself….

I shove my hand down my pants and shamelessly begin to pump my own penis. I envision Katniss coming to me in the night, bestriding me and taking me in her mouth before I can say a word. Then, for the grand finale, she comes down on me with a seductive smile.

I moan and rub faster. I see in my mind's eye a naughty Katniss coming in to kiss me, our lips touching and then unifying…..

"Oh, Katniss!" I scream as semen ejaculates from my member and floods my underwear. I lie there, panting for a moment, before I clean myself up sadly. Oh, what's the use? She'll never love me in that way…..