Peeta

She lays next to me as I stroke her hair gently. Her eyes are heavy lidded, half closed. She's sleepy and beautiful. And I let my fingers trace the curve of her cheek softly. I'd always wanted to do that on the train as she fell asleep. I'd wanted to touch her so many different times, so many different ways. Sometimes it was like this, something simple and sweet. Sometimes I'd want to feel the lines of her body, and memorize her with my hands. Always I wanted to touch her.

I both loved and desired her. And now that she was with me, it was incredibly satisfying, and liberating to be able to finally touch her, just because.

I make another sweep back up and this time I brush the back of my knuckle down from her temple to her jaw. She smiles a little, and it makes me grin like an idiot I'm sure.

"I always wanted to do that on the train." I tell her softly, not wanting to break the peaceful atmosphere that we've created in my bedroom.

"It's nice. Friendly even. It would have been ok with me. Why didn't you?" She asks me quietly and I think about it for a minute.

"I guess because I wanted you to feel comfortable with me. I didn't want to pressure you. We both got enough of that during the tours. Besides, I probably knew on some level that once I'd started it would be impossible for me to want to stop."

"Hmmmm." She replies, noncommittally.

I huff out a laugh. She opens her eyes fully and peers up at me.

"I wanted to trace your freckles sometimes." She admits and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. She usually just accepts compliments from me. Occasionally she'll respond by bringing my lips to her for kisses, or more...

"Oh really?" I ask and then I'm rewarded with one of her beautiful blushes. It warms her olive skin, and spreads across her cheeks and a little down her neck. My eyes trace the movement with fascination. I never knew she blushed so hard. Then again, I'd never seen this much of her bare skin to be able to track her blushes until she climbed in my window a few weeks ago.

"Why didn't you? I certainly wouldn't have objected." I tell her with the utmost certainty.

She rolls her eyes at me. And I love it. She's so comfortable and herself here with me in my bed. It's heavenly.

"I guess I was afraid of the same thing….not knowing where it would lead. Not knowing if it would stop at that."

"This is the first I'm hearing of this. I find myself very intrigued to know more." I tell her as I lower my lips to her bare shoulder and place a soft kiss there on her delicious skin.

"I already told you about it. The first night. I mentioned your shoulders and the freckles then." She says, slightly annoyed.

"I do remember. And I recall exactly what you said. You said the freckles interested you. Not that you wanted to touch them." I tell her with confidence. Those words, all those precious beautiful words she'd finally given me were burned in my memory. Every single one. I'd never forget them.

"Well, I don't know. I guess I thought you'd read between the lines."

"Darling, I've made the mistake of misinterpreting things before…" I tell her quietly, and she looks up at me, more serious because of the tone in my voice, "and I never want to take your feelings for granted again. They're too precious to me. So if you want me to know something, you'll just have to make it plain and simple, like you did that first night." I tell her gently and she just stares at me for a minute.

Her stare is full, heavy with understanding and recognition of what I've said. She knows what I mean. Back during our Games, I had thought she really fell in love with me in the arena, even though it was all an act. She sighs deeply. She moves closer to me and buries her head against my shoulder.

I have to admit this makes me feel monumentally better. Even though she's here naked in my bed after we just made love so passionately it would make a fever dream seem tame, it still hurts to make any reference to that time when we were barely on speaking terms. If I was honest with myself and her, I was heartbroken when I found out back then that her feelings hadn't been real. But it seems so long ago now, especially after all that's happened. I smile down at her gently, without accusation.

But I can see the guilt in her features, the old wash of shame and regret that used to color her face during those days. And I hate it, making her feel that way again. I don't ever want her to have those kinds of feelings. Not here in this bed, in this house where all I ever want her to feel from the moment she arrives is happy and content.

"Katniss, I didn't say it to hurt you, or make you feel bad. It was a long time ago. But the lesson holds true, maybe now more than ever. I love this, what we're doing. I love having you in my bed, in my arms. These things, whether they're for now or for...longer, they are precious to me. When we're together like this, whether I'm asking you what you want for breakfast or I'm asking you where you want to be touched, it should be because it's what we both want. If that means we have to spell things out sometimes, while we get the hang of this, well then that's just all the better. I'll never make you eggs when you really want pancakes. And I'll never touch you if you don't want me to….." I tell her with as much lightness, as much grace and honesty as I can. Because I need her to understand what it means. I need her to know that it's important, for me, to know that these things between us are real.

When her eyes meet mine again, there is agreement in them. She nods, slowly, and reaches up to touch my face. She caresses my cheek for a long while as she stares into my eyes with a look somewhere between deep appreciation and well...longing. It still startles me to catch her wearing this look when we're together. I can never quite find it in me not to be surprised.

"Peeta….Peeta, I want you to touch me now." Her quiet request surprises me, but only for a moment. And then I feel like I'm fully awake and alive. She takes my hand that had been resting against her hip and brings it up to her left breast. And I feel a sudden wave of desire. My hand curls in, to cup her breast. She's so beautiful. I touch her with my hands and kiss along her neck gently, just enjoying the feeling and the taste. I wish I could capture the warm golden color of her shoulders, even in the dark. I wish I could find just the right shade of peachy brown perfection that could be found at the tips of her breasts, and order gallons of paint in that tone. I wanted to paint an entire room in that color and live in it for a month, a year. I leaned my head down to lower my mouth to her other breast. She arched her back and squirmed closer to me impatiently and I smiled as I used my tongue to stimulate her.

Her hands wandered down my chest, my stomach, and eventually to my stiffening desire for her. I felt the sensation like a current of electricity that jolted up and down my body when she took me in her hands and began to stroke up and down my length. I stifled a groan and she let out a breathy laugh. She tightened her grip around me and increased her pace. I felt my heart beat faster and then an unstoppable louder groan of pleasure escaped my lips. This time she chuckled and oh, it drove me almost mad.

"Oh, you don't get to have all the fun." I tell her darkly as I slip from her grasp and lower myself to start kissing down her body. Her laughing stops and she looks down at me as I situate myself between her legs.

Her grey eyes glint darkly with desire as she stares at me, a silver spark in a grey fathomless sky... I trace my fingers along the inside of her thighs, slowly, lazily. She huffs a little. I smirk.

"Want me to touch you….here?" I ask as I let my fingers wander up, and up.

"Uh huh," Her voice is high, and out of breath.

"How about here?" I ask as I trace my finger along her entrance which is already evident with arousal. The beautiful slickness of her... it makes my mouth water...just seeing the way she responds to me. But I'm resolved to tease her a little tonight. She's in a phenomenally good mood. So I don't automatically progress to touching her where I know she wants me to. I linger just out of reach massaging and kneading her thighs and hips. She strains her body towards me, almost unconsciously. Then catches herself doing it and stops. I grin up at her. She looks down at me embarrassed but her cheeks are also flushed with lust and just a bit of desperation. I stifle a laugh. She looks at me incredulously, a little bit angrily. She knows I'm waiting for her to give a spoken response, and it's annoying her.

"Peeta, shut up and just...oh….." Her annoyed protests are cut off by the interruption of my mouth and hands finding her. And all her annoyance is forgotten. It's cathartic on some level to finally be able to strip away her resistance and natural impulse towards defensiveness. I like that she needs me, specifically in this moment, specifically in this way. It's a heady rush of a feeling that comes with realizing just how much her desire for me has grown in this short amount of time that we've been doing these things.

She moans as I swirl my tongue around her favorite spot. And not for the first time I'm glad for all my brothers' late night conversations about the female body. I'm sure Katniss and I would have figured things out on our own, eventually, but knowledge beforehand, even if it was second hand information, had certainly helped ease our transition into this territory. Especially that first night. The first time I had been able to make her orgasm, it had been a personal triumph. The look on her face after, a mixture of awe and unfiltered gratification, had had me daydreaming for weeks. Sometimes I still get hard just thinking about it.

She lifts her hips in time with my movements, and I know she's getting close. She's panting now, and her thighs press against the sides of my face at moments when she's lost to the pleasurable feelings I'm giving her. I pick up the pace, and alternate using my hand more frequently while putting more pressure on her with my mouth. She squirms around me, anxious and needy, so I slide my hands under her body, cupping her exquisite ass and dragging her down, harder onto my mouth. This sends her over the edge and she cries out sharply, unrestrained, and I'm glad, not for the first time since all this started, that I live alone. Sometimes, she gets loud. And I fucking love that about her too.

As soon as she's done, I'm clamoring to get on top of her. My urge to be inside of her is getting on the more desperate side. And when she reaches out to grip my hips as I slide inside of her, I can't help the sound that escapes from my throat. Part ecstasy, part plea. I don't start out slow. It's been a while since the first time, and we're both used to each other. And I'm so turned on right now, slowing down would just be torture for us both. She wraps her arms and legs around me as I dive into her sweet warmth, over and over, while pressing my face into her neck. She murmurs nonsense into my ear, not words really, just noises of encouragement and pleasure. I want to make her come again, but I'm so close, I don't know if I can hold out unless I pull out completely.

"Peeta, don't stop. Come on, I want you to-"

They're the last words I hear before I can't hold back anymore. Her telling me she wants me to come sent me over, way over, and I come so hard my vision goes blurry for a second and I can barely feel any sensation in my one good leg. I have to concentrate to get my arms to obey me and hold me up long enough so that I don't crush her underneath me. But I manage to roll off her, and fall heavily beside her on the bed. I labor to calm my heartbeat and catch my breath. She snuggles into me, warm and pliable as she fits herself against me. It wasn't the most adventurous or the longest encounter we've had. But it sure was satisfying as hell. And she tells me it was good, before kissing my shoulder and closing her eyes.

And I can't immediately think of a single thing wrong with the world at the moment.