Peeta's emotions were all over the place. His dick was so hard it was aching. But his chest felt full and tight and somehow light too, and he wasn't sure what to make of that feeling.
The sexual attraction was easier to deal with.
He set Katniss beside the couch; she was flushed and grinning, her plait half undone, but her silver eyes shimmered with heat and affection. The perfect combination of sexy siren and girl next door. Insanely attractive. That fullness in his chest swelled bigger. Instead of dwelling on it, he cupped her face and kissed her.
Katniss whimpered sweetly, thrusting her fingers into his hair and tugging just hard enough to make his dick jump.
She was sugar and spice. It fascinated him and turned him on like nobody's business.
He pulled her lithe little body snugly against his own, a collision of soft and hard. As if they'd been doused in fuel, hunger and passion exploded between them. They were tongues and teeth and wandering hands.
Her shirt landed on the floor before he even recognised he'd been pulling it off, the bra followed, then his hands were full of her sweet tits. Katniss was just as aggressive, his shorts were around his knees and those hot little hands were gripping his dick. There was no grace, no finesse. Just two people desperate for each other.
The bedroom was too far away.
He bent to kiss and lick and taste those sweet peaks, Katniss only allowed it a few moments before she was pushing his head away and stripping off the rest of her clothing. He ripped his shirt over his head as he watched the wet dream that was Katniss Everdeen kneel on his couch, presenting her bare arse like a gift.
Peeta shuddered, so turned on he could barely form coherent thoughts. He grabbed her hips, then dropped to his knees. "Peeta," Katniss gasped as he nuzzled her thigh. But he would not be deterred.
She was already wet for him, and he lapped at her folds hungrily. She widened her knees and arched her back, wordlessly begging for more. Oh he'd give her more all right.
He'd give her everything, if she'd allow it.
She couldn't keep still as he pleasured her with his mouth, squirming and bucking and riding his face with abandon. It was so hot. He loved how she responded to him. How well they worked together, sexually, but also as friends. She challenged him not just in bed, or on his couch, but every day, with her sharp wit and brilliant insights. Watching her with Madge had been a revelation, the keen observations, the wicked memory. He'd had a really good time, the whole day had been fun. Even the evening with the boys had been fun. Not the carefully curated fun he usually planned for dates, but a more laid-back, honest fun. And he'd liked that better.
He pulled back, stunned by his thoughts. Normally he'd be absolutely mindless at this point, consumed only with chasing pleasure for both of them. Instead, his head was full of Katniss, not just her scent and her taste and those sweet bouncing tits. But about the whole package. It was new, and a little disconcerting.
Katniss glanced back at him, silver eyes hooded and lust-glazed. "Now, Peeta," she breathed. "I need you now."
Peeta fished around for his shorts, extracting a condom from his wallet while Katniss watched with hunger laid bare. He could barely roll on the prophylactic, he was so desperate for her. So pent up. Three days he'd thought about her, dreamed about her, with only his own fist to soothe the ache.
She watched him prepare himself, and as he lined himself up with her entrance she arched more deeply and crossed her arms against the back of the couch, as if braced for his invasion.
He couldn't hold back.
Katniss cried out as Peeta buried himself to the hilt, and he groaned at both the exquisite heat enveloping him and the music of her surrender. He should slow down, should love her reverently. But he couldn't.
He fucked her hard and fast, gripping her hips so tightly he'd probably leave bruises. Katniss dropped her head against her crossed arms and swore softly. The air filled with his grunts and the slapping of their skin, an erotic soundtrack that drove him absolutely mindless.
He was already close, so bloody close, but he needed to get Katniss there first. He took a deep, steadying breath, then leaned across her, pressed himself against her soft, warm skin and gently bit her shoulder. She practically purred. He reached beneath their bodies to stroke her clit roughly and the noise she made was beautiful. He whispered filth and praise in her ear as she shuddered beneath him.
It was so damned perfect. She was so damned perfect.
He felt it when she flew over the edge, her whole body tensed, her sheath gripped him like a fist. It took every last speck of his willpower to hold off his own orgasm. But he wasn't bloody well ready to be done.
He continued thrusting shallowing as she pulsed around him, riding the waves of her orgasm, sliding his hands languidly over her body. "Do you know," he gritted out from between clenched teeth, "how sexy you are? I fantasize about you every damned day." The way she moaned and dropped her head spurred him on. "I wank myself raw thinking about this arse. About everything I want to do to you."
She looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with him, lips curled up in a smirk but expression sultry. He could tell his words were turning her on as much as his cock was. With her wild hair and her half-lidded silver eyes, she was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He wasn't a possessive man by nature, but he was overcome by an urge to mark her as his, to stake his claim.
He pulled out, holding her gaze, then dragged off the condom and fisted his cock, stroking himself roughly. Katniss's eyes widened, perfect peach lips parting as she guessed his intention. "Yes," she moaned, arching her back, giving him the most perfect visual fantasy come to life. And it was all Peeta needed to hear.
Peeta dragged his hand up and down his shaft, and Katniss watched, enthralled. "Faster," she panted, and Peeta jerked himself harder, grunting with every slick slide. "Come for me, Peeta."
Her words in that husky voice pushed him over the edge. With a guttural groan, Peeta came, rope after rope of his release landing on her arse and back, pearly white against her olive skin. It was so damned hot his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
He collapsed forward, barely managing to shift them so she was curled against him instead of pinned under him. His heart thundered against her back, his sticky release cooling between them. Their harsh pants were the only sound for several minutes.
"You have a dirty side," Katniss teased, satisfaction in her voice.
"You bring out the animal in me," he laughed, though that wasn't quite it. More like she freed him, in some ways.
He would have liked to simply drift off to sleep with Katniss cradled so sweetly in his arms. But she was already squirming, uncomfortable, whether from the leather of the couch on her bare skin, his cum squelching between them or, most likely, the intimacy of their bodies pressed together in the afterglow of what they'd shared. But he was not going to let her run, not this time. Not without a fight anyway.
"Come shower with me," he said, pulling away with reluctance but keeping his tone light.
"I have a shower at home," she hedged, but he chuckled.
"You really want to walk around the block with my spoof all over your arse?" Katniss burst into startled laughter at his words, and his whole body relaxed at the sound.
"You have a point, Hotshot," she snickered, and let him lead her upstairs.
Peeta had renovated the bath too, pushing back a wall to gain an extra half metre of space, which he'd used to put in a wide stall with multiple shower heads. He could tell Katniss was impressed. Put the cramped tub and shower combo in her bath to shame.
"Wow," she said softly. "If I'd known you were hiding this up here I'd have come by every morning," Katniss teased, and Peeta only narrowly bit back the admonisment that he'd tried to get her to stay before. He had to be careful with her. Light, fun, no pressure, that's what she needed and that's what he was going to give her.
And have a hell of a good time along the way.
They showered together, and before she'd even finished rinsing her hair, he was hard again. He bent to lap the shower water from one perfect breast and she rolled her eyes, but didn't push him away.
He was still kissing her, still teasing her when the water ran cold. Laughing, they hurriedly towelled off and he hustled her to his bedroom.
There, she hesitated and seemed uncertain. "I should go," she said, but it was nearly a question. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressed gentle kisses along her neck.
"Stay," he said.
She spun in his arms but didn't pull away. "And have you wake me at crazy o'clock when you leave for work?" She was joking, but he was not.
"I'm not the one opening the bakery tomorrow. You can sleep as late as you like." He knew she didn't sleep in on her days off anyway. "There'll even be brekky in it."
A small smile tugged at her lips. He knew he was getting to her. He moved them both to the bed and pulled back the doona, sliding between cool sheets and bringing her with him. She was still tense, still not quite convinced. He kissed her, softly.
"I'd really like you to stay, Katniss. I'd like to spend the night beside you, then wake you in the morning with my head between your thighs and your taste on my tongue." He could feel her body's response where she was pressed against him, see the arousal that painted her cheeks.
"You're a very persuasive man, Hotshot," she murmured, relaxing against him, her head pillowed on his biceps.
He was indeed, he thought, but didn't gloat. He merely clicked off the light and buried his nose in her still-damp hair.