Happy New Year lovelies! Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews. Unfortunately, it appears as though the reviews that people have submitted over the last few days aren't posting, even though it looks like the number of them is increasing. Like it currently says I have 26 reviews, but then when I click on the link to view them, only 22 of them are visible. I disabled the "Moderate Reviews" setting in case that was the issue, but it doesn't appear to be. If you have any idea what to try next to fix it, please let me know.
And though you can't see the review, one reader noted that "Katniss really wants that D." (or something similar, I lost the review after I approved it, so I don't remember exact wording). And to you I say She does indeed my friend. She does indeed.
Also I make no apologies for how sugary this is gonna get. None. It just may put your teeth on edge. Or maybe it won't. I don't know.
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Neither of them moved for a few seconds. Cato just knelt there, staring at his daughter.
Oh shit shit shit what the fuck do I say? Katniss wondered, but Cato recovered first.
"Tell you what baby girl," he finally said, patting Violet gently on the back a couple times with one hand and pointing to the house with the other, "go inside and get your bag packed up. Your mom and I have to discuss it."
"Ok!" she said blithely. And she turned and skipped through the yard and up the steps and disappeared into the house. Katniss and Cato both followed her with their eyes.
Katniss had recovered herself at this point, and had decided that a humorous course was the best one. "That sounds like an expensive present," she teased, though her voice shook. "Can you afford it?"
He stood up from his crouch slowly, and he didn't smile back at her. There wasn't even a hint of mirth in his expression. "Yes." His voice was dead serious. "So now I just need you to tell me if it's ok for her to have one."
Her heart was starting to pound painfully in her chest. She thought maybe he was trying to say...maybe...she wasn't quite sure...but...maybe...She had to be sure. "Well," she said slowly, backing up a step at the intensity of his eyes on hers. "I mean I guess it's your business. It's not really my call if you decide to find someone to-"
"She didn't ask for a half brother," he interrupted, quietly but firmly. He was looking at her, as he had so many times before, the way a predator looks at its prey. Steadily. With a single-minded focus. Unmoving. Every muscle poised and ready to spring.
This time it didn't scare her.
This time it made her wet.
"This isn't something to joke about Cato," she said.
"I'm not laughing Katniss."
That made her wetter.
"I'm telling you that I want to have another child with you," he continued, still unmoving. "But I won't push it. I said it once. I won't make you any more uncomfortable than you already are by saying it again. The ball's in your court. Do what you want with it."
God she was soaking. But still...
"And if I say no?" she asked. "How long will you wait?"
"Wait?"
"Yeah. Until you find another woman to give you one."
"I don't want another woman to give me one. I want you to give me one."
"Well that was...direct. I see subtlety isn't your game."
"I don't have a game. I know what I want."
Yeah, that was hot. She looked down at the grass between them. She hoped he couldn't see how badly she was shaking.
"You've thought about this before today."
"Yes," he confirmed.
"How long?"
"Since the day I first heard you sing to Violet."
Her eyes snapped back up to his face. "That was almost three years ago."
"It was. And I've thought about it every day since."
She rubbed her thighs together. Just a little bit. Just to relieve some of the tension that was building between them. He noticed. She could tell because his eyes dropped from her face to her thighs. But his expression remained the same. And he didn't move a muscle. Except he wet his lips with his tongue.
She looked back down at the grass
"If we're gonna do this then we would have to...you know."
"I know how babies are made Katniss."
God the way he said her name.
"Have you thought about that every day for three years too?" she joked nervously.
He didn't laugh. He didn't smile. "No," he said. "I've thought about that every day since you poured me a drink in the train on our tour."
She didn't say anything for a few seconds. And then she lifted her head and met his eye.
"When do you want to try?" she asked.
He countered with a question of his own. "You in any hurry to go back to 12?"
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He had been direct and borderline predatory with her in the backyard. He knew that.
But now that they had gotten Violet down for the night (after what had to have been the longest, slowest, most awkward and nerve-wracking day of his life), they stood beside his bed like a pair of nervous teenagers, and he was trying to make her comfortable. He didn't want this to remind her of Violet's conception at all.
But Katniss was unsure of herself and having trouble getting started. "I haven't done this ever," she told him. "Except that one time. In the arena. With you."
"I figured as much."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.
"That I think you're the kind of woman who doesn't enter into this lightly," he said, which placated her immediately. "That you have to completely and totally trust and respect the man you do this with. That he has to earn his way to you and he should feel honored if you decide to let him in."
Well, now she was wet again. Honestly, he could be so sweet and simple and silver-tongued at times that she was beginning to think he had more in common with Peeta than she'd ever believed possible.
"Why didn't you say anything until today?" she asked him.
He shrugged and smiled down at her. "I wasn't sure how you felt about having another baby with me and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't planning on saying anything today either. But then Violet gave me a perfect opening. So I was like, fuck it, why not roll with it and see what happens? And by the way, I haven't done this since the arena either."
"That was more than three and a half years ago!" she said in disbelief.
"Yes, I know that. My dick knows it too."
It startled her into a laugh.
And then he closed the distance between them and he put a hand on her waist, his thumb rubbing circles lightly over her ribs.
She looked up at him.
And he looked down at her.
And he parted his lips just a tiny tiny bit.
And she'd never realized that such a subtle, unconscious movement could be so mesmerizing. She felt like she had to touch his mouth, so she lifted her fingers and laid them against it.
He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh like a man granted a reprieve and then he opened his lids again, slowly, sleepily, and kissed the tips of her fingers. She trailed her hand across his mouth and over his jaw and down his neck, and then she drew his head down to hers.
And that was it.
They were soft and slow and gentle with each other, but there was no more caution, no more hesitation. Their mouths fit together perfectly, as though they'd been molded for one another, and they made up for all of the kisses they had ever bitten back and swallowed and choked on.
Their clothes came off slowly, piece by piece in between kisses and Katniss shivered as she felt, finally, for the first time, his calloused palms catching on her bare skin as he ran them down her sides and her shoulder blades and her back and her bottom.
She discovered that she liked the salty taste of the skin that covered his throat and the feel of his scruff against her temple and his biceps under her hands.
Eventually, he drew back and settled himself on his bed against the wall and he held out a hand to her. She took it and straddled him and he bent his knees and planted his feet so he could support her back with his thighs.
She looked down between their bodies shyly and he helped her onto him, watching her face as she adjusted to the feel of him inside of her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and when she began to move against him, he stayed perfectly still, learning her body as she learned it herself, until she did that thing where she furrowed her brow and huffed and gave him a look that said move, you idiot and then she bucked sharply against him once and he laughed out loud. It reminded him of someone spurring on a stubborn horse. So he took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead and then her nose and then her mouth, and he placed his hands on her hips and he started to move with her slowly and tenderly, savoring each sensation. As though it was the last time he would ever do this with her. Because, for all he knew, it could be.
When she instinctively clenched her muscles around him he let out a strangled groan and she stopped moving. Her eyes were wide with innocent pride and wonder that she had elicited such a reaction from him. And then the look turned devilish, and she clenched again. This time the little brat knew exactly what she was doing, and as he seized up and groaned again, he thought oh two can play this game. He reached down between their bodies and put his fingers on her and now she was the one who let out an involuntary cry.
When he did it again he felt her melt into total surrender beneath his hands, and he decided to officially take over control.
He brought her to the brink and then stopped, brought her to the brink and then stopped, brought her to the brink and then stopped, until, with tears of frustration in her eyes, she curled her hands into fists and thumped them against his chest.
But he wasn't doing this to be cruel or to tease. He was doing this because if it was the only time he would get to do this for her, he wanted her orgasm to be as intense and exquisite as possible. He wanted it to represent the depth and the enormity of what he felt for her.
He caught her wrists in his hands and she dropped her head onto his shoulder so that he could feel her tears on his skin. "Trust me," he whispered, his lips on her temple. "Do you trust me?" She nodded against him, and he released her wrists and returned his fingers to her.
Three more times he brought her to the brink and then stopped, until, finally, when her body was shaking uncontrollably against his and she didn't even have the strength to whimper pitifully anymore, he followed through.
Every muscle in her body tensed as she went completely still for a few seconds, and then she arched up off of him, almost violently, as her orgasm ripped one long, hoarse cry from her throat.
She went completely limp and fell forward against him, her face buried in his neck. He put his arms around her and held her to him, running the fingers of one hand through her hair as she sighed with relief into his skin, her body still jerking now and then with aftershocks, tears still running down her cheeks and onto his neck.
When her breath slowed a few minutes later, she let out another sigh and pushed herself up off of his chest and he took her face in his hands again so he could kiss the tears from her eyes.
When he dropped his hands, she shifted her weight onto her knees on either side of himon the mattress and slowly began to move up and down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, holding him close.
The feel of it made him freeze up for a second, and then he wrapped his arms around her waist and moved with her. He couldn't keep himself from gasping and he squeezed his eyes shut tight and leaned into her shoulder, thumping his forehead against it gently in frustration just as she had thumped her fists against his chest. He felt like he was being tortured and yet granted relief at the same time. "Nnng-gheh-heh,' he breathed into her skin, and he twisted his head this way and that, grinding his face into her collarbone as they moved together until he jerked up off of the wall and, tightening his arms around her, emptied himself into her with a yelp.
He leaned back against the wall with a breathless holy shit, and she preened, clearly proud of herself. It made him smile, and he raised a hand to her cheek affectionately as he watched her through half-lidded eyes.
"I gotta get off you and lay down," she whispered. "Otherwise it'll all leak out."
"Ok," he whispered back, closing his eyes all the way and releasing her.
When he had regained his energy, he leaned down and retrieved his boxers. And then he left the bed and selected a t shirt and another pair of boxers from the corner of his room and handed them to her. "In case Violet wakes up before us and comes in," he explained, sighing regretfully as Katniss sat up and dressed herself. He prayed this wasn't the last time he'd see her naked body.
He shut off the light and they settled beside each other on their stomachs, faces turned inward toward one another.
"How long til you know if it worked or not?" he asked.
"About a week and a half. I'll take the test the night before you come to pick her up next." She yawned, and closed her eyes, and within a couple of minutes, she was asleep.
Cato watched her for a bit in the light from the moon, and then he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, covered the hand closest to him with his own, and surrendered to sleep himself.
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Katniss woke briefly just before sunrise to discover that at some point during the night, little Violet had left her bed and climbed in between them, worming her way under the blanket.
Instinctively, both she and Cato had placed a hand over their daughter in their sleep so that their fingers overlapped.
A feeling of contentment spread through her, warming her from the inside out in reverse of the way the soft gray blanket of his bed warmed her from the outside in, and she fell back to sleep with a smile on her lips.