Chapter 3
Katniss' back was to the door as she mentally slapped herself on the wrist for enjoying Snow's attentions.
"Dammit Katniss! Your father would be ashamed," the voice of her self-conscious echoed through her head. If he had done that, imagine what he would do to her next time.
But his hands felt much better on her neglected sex than her own. And she hadn't had any kind of release since before the games. He seemed to know the exact speed and technique that drove her insane. It was almost as if he had looked into her head, which honestly wouldn't be surprising at this point. It felt so horrible and yet so wonderful.
She started to sweat and moan thinking about his fingers brushing against her. Her eyes closed as she imagined him on the bed with her, feeling every inch of her body. Would he be rough and quick? Or slow and gentle with her? She could only guess the latter and her legs quivered at the thought.
"No, no, no! This is all wrong," Katniss said to herself. She couldn't be feeling this way, could she?
Her hand went between her knees and she let her desires do the work. Oh how she hated them! Hated how his hands had gripped her in all the right places. Hated how his deep, smooth as silk voice coaxed her inner lioness. For once she was the hunted instead of the hunter.
"Katniss. This is all for you," he moaned in her head as he rutted in and out.
She bit her lip and started writhing on the floor as her eyes rolled back into her head and the world became blurry as she flicked her fingers across her clit and arched into her touch with a silent sob of shame.
"Ms. Everdeen," Katniss was broken from her trance by a tiny voice that belonged to a small woman with spiked blond hair and obviously genetically modified green eyes with red specks.
"Yes?" Katniss replied, almost sounding like Haymitch after a hangover.
"Master Snow wants you to change into this and join him in the rose garden for a walk," the maid handed her a purple top with puffy shoulders and a flat matching skirt to contrast. It looked like something Effie would wear.
Thankfully he had given her the mercy of ballet flat shoes and no gaudy hat. And to that she smiled a little, for the first time ever since she got here.
She wanted to go into a hole and die so that she'd never have to marry the man who killed Peeta. She'd be much happier to spend her life with him instead of Snow. But, Peeta was dead. Katniss had seen it with her own eyes.
She remembered when it happened too...
Flashback to District 12 fire
Katniss covered her mouth to avoid the fumes from the impending fire.
"Peeta?!" Katniss cried out into the empty house. Her heart sank like a rock in water in hopes she could find him.
"Katniss...run..." a meek shadow of Peeta's voice managed to squeeze out.
"No Peeta. I'm not leaving without you!" she insisted, trying to get the beam off of him.
"Sweetheart, what are ya doin' in here. Come on," Haymitch dragged her out. Haymitch didn't see Peeta and she felt powerless to break loose of the alcoholic mentor's grip.
"Nooo! Peeta," she sobbed.
"Go be happy with Gale. I know you love him," Peeta frowned as he uttered his dying words.
Katniss sobbed that night until there were no more tears left.
"Peeta," she whispered. This was all her fault! She had let him die!
End Flashback