Chapter 2
Snow sat in his throne-like chair drinking a glass of some of his rarest and well-aged wine. After all it had been from before the war and he reveled in every sip of it, stopping to admire himself in the glass. He after all was well aged like the wine he enjoyed.
And it tasted even sweeter as the thought dawned on him that he had won against Katniss Everdeen. Although Katniss Snow had a much nicer ring to it.
Speak of the she-devil herself she came down in a short-sleeved black v-neck shirt that came to a point right between her breasts, a red skirt with a rose on it, and black heels which he could tell she was having trouble walking in. And that amused him all the more.
"Enjoying your new shoes mockingjay?" Snow chuckled, the dark wine staining his beard.
"As much as if I enjoy having a porcupine's needle shoved up my ass," she sat down at the long table across from him, prying her painful shoes off with her fingers.
"I know something you would enjoy much more up your rectum Katniss," Snow gave a subtle wink to his fiance.
She glared at him, her rage at his perverted remark unwavering. No matter how much power the man in front of her held.
"Oh yes. And may I suggest leaving those shoes on dear. Those and ones similar to them will be your wardrobe for the rest of your days," the ever-grinning president. "After all we are going to the opera this evening and I want you to look your best,"
"Oh what? So I can be eye-candy for you?" Katniss remarked snarkily.
The heels of his shoes tapped against the marble floors wrapping his long, spiderous fingers around her neck as his hot breath whispered against her ear:
"You had better watch your tongue my dear. You never know when it may," he took the knife on her napkin and placed the knife on the inside of her cheek. "End up," he cut a small slit and blood soon followed.
"Oww, what was that for?" Katniss looked frightened.
But before her protests could go on any longer he slid his snake-like tongue in her mouth and licked up the blood off of her cheek as Katniss felt a tingling in her loins, one that shouldn't be there.
He slid his hand in the waistband of her skirt and felt her clitoris with his long and skilled hand as it emitted a gasp from her.
"W-what are you doing?!" the girl on fire was struck with panic but was too paralyzed to move.
Snow continued his minstrations on her clit and his hands slid past the band as the feeling of her brown, untamed pubic hair brushed against his fingers.
"So soft," the man whispered in her ear, nibbling on it.
"Maybe you could show me around," she suggested, trying anything to evade his grasp despite feeling the pangings of arousal in her stomach and womanhood.
"Do you really want me to stop dear?" Snow slid a finger into her hot sheath and wiggled it around.
"Ngghh," she moaned, desperate to climax but ashamed of who was bringing her to this high.
He grinned devilishly, continuing to pleasure the girl, no woman beneath him. He wanted so badly to take her as she sat on her chair.
But as always he had a plan. He wanted to have her coming back for more, because he knew that his hands alone could bring Katniss to the breaking point and eventually she would desire more than his thick fingers.
Her toes curled as her orgasm quickly approached and she felt her entire being melt down to nothing but a moaning, sweaty mess. Begging for more.
"Oh god!" Katniss screamed before releasing onto his hands, callused by the stench of battle and the stains of blood.
Oh how gloriously erotic! Snow thought to himself with a smile.
"And so our life begins dear," the president laughed richly, leaving a panting and sobbing Katniss with her legs apart on the table and her thighs dripping with wetness. A crudely immaculate display in the house of corruption and lust.