Fair Warning: The beginning of this chapter contains an explicitly erotic Everlark sex scene. You've been notified.
I wake up without my body pressed up against the warmth of my husband's. I'm on my side, still naked, and I can feel there is nothing covering me, but I'm still comfortable. I open my eyes slowly to find myself staring right into Peeta's.
I yawn and stretch my arms over my head.
"Oh my god," Peeta grins.
"What?" I ask him quietly.
"That did glorious things to your boobs," he smirks, lust in his eyes.
I giggle and cup his cheek with my hand, leaning over to give him a long kiss.
"Good morning baby," I whisper against his warm inviting lips.
"Good morning honey," he whispers back.
"Why do you never call me sweetheart?" I ask curiously.
He shrugs before he answers.
"That's what Haymitch calls you," he explains. "At first I know you hated it, but now you don't seem to mind."
"So?"
"I don't know. I didn't want to call you something I knew you didn't like, in the beginning. Now, I guess I don't out of habit. Why do you ask?"
"I heard Finnick call Annie it yesterday," I tell him. "Now that I think about it, it would be weird to hear you say it."
"Exactly," he grins.
"But I wouldn't be opposed to 'sweetie' for future reference," I inform him. "I don't see Haymitch ever calling me that." We both laugh softly.
"Fair enough," he replies.
"What exactly were you doing when I woke up Peeta?" I ask slyly.
He blushes and averts his eyes.
"Honey?"
"I was admiring you," he quietly admits.
"What do you mean?"
"I was admiring your beauty. You're just so beautiful. Our lives are so hectic and it's only going to get crazier, so if I can take a few minutes each morning and remind myself how lucky I am, it helps."
Now it's my turn to blush under his words and gaze. I feel him gently kiss my cheeks, which he always likes to do when I blush.
"It also helps me to take some time every morning to make love to my wife," he adds.
"Peeta," I get his attention. "I was thinking, and I want you to know that even if we call it sex, or fucking, what you and I do is always making love. We love each other, we're in love, and whenever we're in bed together, even if we're not in bed technically, we're expressing that love."
He smiles wide and I feel the need to give him a kiss on the lips.
"I know," he whispers.
"Now that we've got that cleared up," I pause.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck me, Peeta," I deadpan.
His smile somehow gets wider and we gravitate towards one another. We kiss slowly, Peeta cradling my face in his hands gently. I can feel the coolness of his wedding ring on my cheek. He trails one his hands down my body, tracing my curves with the tips of his fingers, causing me to shiver.
"Perfection," he mutters as he gazes down my lithe, nude body.
"You're more than welcome to use that perfection in any way you see fit," I mumble into his lips, wanting him to get more action oriented.
He apparently takes my advice, because soon I'm on my back looking up into his eyes. He bends down to kiss me, and I tangle my hands through his hair. He kisses down my body, knowing how much it teases me, and makes his way all the way to my stomach before I stop him.
"Stop," I grab his hair tightly. He looks up at me curiously, asking me what I mean. Instead of voicing it, I reach down, grasp his erection, and guide it towards me. He gets the idea, and together we help him enter me.
"Ohhh shit," I moan as he fills me up with his entire length.
He smiles and leans down to kiss me again, and I wrap my arm around his neck to keep him close. We moan into each other's mouths as he starts thrusting into me faster, the pleasure coming in waves.
"Harder," I groan. He smirks and pushes into me, causing me to emit noises I never thought I would be able to make. "Yeah, that's it baby. Fuck me," I goad him on. Every time he thrusts into me, I groan into his mouth, knowing what it does to him.
"I'm going to make you come," he whispers. To back up his claim, he dives a hand down between my legs, catching my own hand on the way down, and together we work me into a screaming orgasm. "Lose control, baby, just let it go," he prompts.
I do let it all go, and let our bodies dictate the pace and the pleasure of the moment. I kiss him everywhere my lips can reach, using my tongue to draw intricate patterns on his skin. In response, he kisses all over my breasts, capturing each nipple and working them individually.
I grasp some hair and force his face back up to mine, crashing our lips together as he brings me to another orgasm. As I writhe under him, I whisper fiercely against his lips.
"Please, Peeta, please keep fucking me. I need to feel every inch of you inside me."
As I say this, I match his thrusts with my own, maximizing our pleasure. He flips us over, so I'm on top, and I begin to ride him while he grasps my hips, allowing him to pump into me.
"Oh my god you're so warm," he mumbles. I smile and lean down to gently kiss him.
"You like that?" He nods. "You like fucking my tight pussy?" He nods again. "Keep going, Peeta. Please, baby, please. Fuck me harder, deeper. I'm so wet right now. The only thing I want is for you to come inside of me, baby. Please," I beg.
My whispers send him over the edge, and his face contorts into the expression of pure bliss that alerts me to his impending orgasm. I lean down and put my lips right against his.
"Let it go, Peeta. Forget about all our problems and worries and just explode inside of me. Please. I love you so much. I only want you to think about us, baby. You and me and our love. Now kiss me while you come."
I slip my tongue in his mouth and I feel his enter mine as he finally releases inside of me, his warmth filling me up and making me delirious with love.
We collapse onto the bed, sweaty and sated, whispering words of love as we kiss. We know that soon we'll have to get up and face the day, but for right now, our world extends to end of this bed.
Eventually we do get up, getting the twins ready and taking our shower. We head to the Training Center, giving Annabel and Grayson last minute advice. Their individual sessions will be after lunch, and Peeta will be going with Grayson to his to help with demonstrating his wrestling skills.
They go down for their morning Training, and we hang out in the penthouse as various other mentors come and go, talking about our Tributes. We discuss our huge Alliance, and find out that it's pretty much all set up. We've almost come up with our plan for the Games, and how to keep everyone alive, and we need to present it to our Tributes in such a way they don't become suspicious. It's not that we don't trust them, it's just we certainly don't trust the Capitol.
I find myself sitting with Annie, talking about various things, mostly our marriages. She and Finnick have been having a great time being married, and I'm tempted to say 'I told you so', but hold myself off. Somehow, the conversation turns to our sex lives.
"Oh, Katniss, do you and Peeta have any extra condoms? Finnick and I are almost out," she asks casually. I blush and turn my eyes away, which she misinterprets.
"Wait, do you and Peeta not….but what about the twins?" She's confused now.
"No, it's not that Annie," I explain. I take a deep breath. "Peeta and I have never used condoms."
"What?"
"We use birth control. Well at least now, obviously not before. I take pills," I tell her.
"Oh," her eyes widen. "Why not condoms?"
I debate whether to tell her. It's personal, sure, but it's also a little embarrassing.
"I don't like having anything in between us," I whisper. "I need to feel him – all of him."
"Oh," she blushes. "I see."
"Yeah," I nod. "Plus, if we used condoms, we wouldn't be able to be as spontaneous as we are." My hand shoots to my mouth as soon as I finish speaking. I can't believe I blurted that out.
"Oh my god, Katniss Mellark!" Annie looks at me accusingly.
"What?" I say innocently.
"You can't keep your hands off your husband, can you?" She smiles.
I shake my head guiltily.
"Even after the twins were born?" She asks curiously.
"It's gotten worse ever since they came," I tell her honestly. Her jaw drops. I shrug. "It's true. We just can't stop. I mean, last night, we had sex in the hallway walking back from putting them to bed. We're both insatiable."
"Wow," she shakes her head. "And I thought my marriage was good."
"Oh, please, I see the way you look at each other," I wave her off.
"Maybe, but we're more…..conservative with our sex life, I guess," she admits.
"Do you think it's a bad thing?" I ask shyly.
"No!" She immediately says. "I'm jealous, actually."
"That's ridiculous," I tell her with a shake of my head.
"I've always wondered if what Finnick and I have compares to what you two have," she continues. I go to interrupt, but she stops me. "Ever since I saw you two in the Tribute Parade."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"When you held hands," she explains.
"What about it?"
"You really don't know?" I shake my head. "As soon as he took your hand, you looked, well, peaceful. I almost didn't believe it, considering the circumstances, but it's true. But Peeta, Peeta looked – how do I put this – Peeta looked like he was where he had always belonged. You have quite the effect on him, Katniss."
"He has an effect on me," I correct.
"Maybe," she shrugs, "but Katniss, you are a completely different person than the one that went into that Arena a year ago. You're still you, obviously, full of fire and ready to fight on a moment's notice, but you're also...," she searches for the right word, "serene."
"Serene?" I scoff.
"Yeah," she nods. "When you look at Peeta, or Eve, or Josh, you take on this look of complete serenity. Bliss. I don't really know what to call it, but you look like Peeta did during the Parade. Exactly where you belong."
I'm honestly at a loss for words, and she notices.
"Look at it this way. Last year, when you heard Peeta confess his love for you during his interview, how did you react?"
"I attacked him," I immediately answer. She smiles.
"And just about two minutes ago, you looked over to Peeta while we were in the middle of talking, and your entire face lit up. I'm positive you didn't even notice it, but I did. Your eyes softened, your lips formed a smile, and your whole demeanor relaxed."
"So?"
"He's changed you. You've changed you. The twins have changed you. You're finally who you were always meant to be, and I want that."
"Annie," I sigh, not knowing what else to say.
"I know, I know," she waves me off. "Finnick and I will have children. One day. But I want you to know, when we do, you're the person I'm going to look to as my model of a perfect mother. I already do when I doubt myself as a wife. You always doubt yourself, even when everyone is telling you the opposite."
"Peeta always tells me that," I tell her out of reflex.
"See? For someone with as much courage as you, you're still unwilling to be brave enough to admit it. That's irony if I've ever seen it."
I think about what she's saying, but don't understand how we got to this point.
"What does this have to do with our sex lives?" I ask, utterly confounded.
"Your sex life is a reflection of your metamorphosis. Last year you were terrified when Peeta had to strip down when you were healing him. Now, you make it sound as if you two are going at it like bunnies." She smirks at me and I can't help but smile back.
"I don't know what's gotten into me Annie," I breathe. "I can't help myself around him. Every time I see him I just want to rip his clothes off. What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing," she beams. "You're in love."
"Ugh," I groan, slapping my hand against my forehead. "Men."
"What are you two talking about?" Finnick asks loudly as he and Peeta sit down on either side of us. Annie and I look at each other and grin.
"Nothing," we say in unison. The boys shrug unknowingly.
We eat lunch with our Tributes, and they're both quiet and pensive, no doubt worried about this afternoon. Annabel asks me about my session last year, so I tell her, and she laughs and relaxes a bit.
Soon they're off for their sessions. Peeta leaves me with a kiss and I miss him before he's out the door. I pace while I wait for him, the twins the only thing helping me keep my sanity.
Finally they come through the door. I can't tell how it went yet, as all three of them just look worn out.
"Well?" I ask impatiently when they sit.
"Grayson did great," Peeta tells the room. "We demonstrated some wrestling and close quarter combat and he threw a few spears accurately."
"How about you, Annabel?" I ask her.
"I don't know," she replies quietly. "I threw some knives and did some sprints."
She doesn't elaborate. Nobody asks her to.
We all wait anxiously for Caesar to announce the scores. Eventually he begins.
They're all fairly low, as was expected. The Careers don't do much better than the rest, proving that the field is fairly equal. The highest score so far is an eight, from the boy from 2.
It's 12's turn.
Caesar shows Grayson's picture, then announces his score.
Ten.
The entire room gasps. A ten? What? Effie is quick to assure that it's a good sign. The rest of the adults know better.
Then it's Annabel's turn. Caesar shows her picture, then announces her score.
Ten.
We have the two highest scoring Tributes, by multiple points.
Haymitch, Peeta and I make eye contact and have a silent conversation. We know exactly what's happening. They're gunning for our Tributes, probably as retribution for last year.
We push it to the back of our minds and assure both of them that it's good. That it will help with sponsors. That it will scare the other Tributes into staying away. All the bullshit lines to try and not reveal what's truly going on.
Eventually we eat a somber dinner and head back to the hotel. Peeta and I are silent even as we put the twins to bed. We change, brush our teeth, and crawl under the covers, yearning to be into each other's arms.
"I don't want to lose them," I whisper.
"We won't," he's quick to assure.
"You don't know that!" I snap angrily.
"No, I don't," he calmly replies. "But I believe it."
I scoff.
"Sometimes I wish you weren't so damn – damn – ugh, I don't know," I huff.
He's silent for a few moments, the only sounds our steady breaths.
"Aren't you going to say something?" I say facetiously, "some witty remark to make me feel better? Some carefully crafted anecdote that will lift my spirits?"
After what seems like a millennia, he speaks slowly and softly.
"Nobody, especially us, can control what goes on in that Arena. But don't you for a second think that we're not going to do everything in our power to get as many of those innocent children out of there alive as we can. So stop letting it control your thoughts, Kat. There's nothing we can do now except prepare them the best way we know how."
I want to rebuff him, tell him he's wrong, yell at him, anything. But I can't. Because I know he's right, in my heart.
"I know," I finally whisper with a sad nod. He kisses my forehead and then my lips sweetly.
"Let's stop talking about this," he suggests.
"Fine," I agree. "What do you want to do instead?"
Without hesitation he answers.
"This."
His lips are on mine instantly and my body is set on fire.
"Thank god," I mumble incoherently in between fervent kisses.
A while later, we're back laying in one another's arms, albeit not thinking about the Quell. At least trying not to.
"Katniss?" Peeta breaks the silence.
"Hmm?" I look up at him from my position on his bare chest.
"Can I ask you a question?" He asks, almost looking shy and nervous.
I roll my eyes playfully and smirk.
"What do you think?"
"Kat, I'm serious."
"Yes, Peeta, you know you can ask me whatever you want."
He sighs and takes a deep breath. By the look in his eye and his general appearance, I know he's been thinking about this question for a while.
"If I'd died in that cave, what would you have done?"
I'm sure I look like a complete idiot, laying here with my mouth open, a bewildered look on my face. His question takes me totally by surprise. He understands and lets me work through my thought process, helping by gently running his hand through my hair.
"I don't know," I finally whisper. "I mean, I've never really thought about it. Even when we were in the cave, I tried not to think about it. It was just so – unfathomable to me. We had to get out of their alive, together. It was that, or –"
"Or what?" He prompts.
I shake my head.
"Or what?" He asks a little louder.
"Or we stayed in that cave forever." Neither of us mentions the fact that our bodies would both have been picked up by hovercrafts. It's the sentiment, the vision, that counts.
"Katniss," he breathes, with that tone that tells me he's concerned about me. I hate it half the time, but love it most of the time. "You know that's not what I would have wanted."
"I know," I retort, a little more harshly than intended. I take a moment to soften my approach. "Peeta, that's not fair and you know it. How many times have you said, have we talked about, how you were ready to die for me in that Arena?"
He shuts his eyes and nods, guilt all over his face.
"Exactly. It's completely hypocritical for you to say you would have died for me, but when I say I would have died for you, you get, well, angry at me."
"I'm not angry," he clarifies. "It's just – Kat – I wanted to die in the Arena so you could live your life. Be happy. Have a family. Find love. Move on."
I groan and grunt in frustration.
"Now I'm angry," I tell him with a glare. His eyes widen. "How many times do I have to tell you that the only life I want, or will ever want, is with you. If I left that Arena without you, I would have been alive, but I never would have lived. You know that, Peeta. Don't you dare pretend you don't."
"But you knew that in the cave? That without me, it wasn't worth living?" He asks quietly.
I let out a deep breath, thinking it over. Bringing myself back to that dank, dark cave where my mind was a jumble of a million thoughts. Do I love Peeta? What is love? Am I even capable of the emotion? Then I remember how I felt when he was shivering, fever and blood poisoning riddling his body with death. When I first really thought there was a good chance that I was going to lose him. I try to bring myself back to that exact moment, and remember how I felt.
"Yes," I say confidently, without any wavering. "Yes, Peeta. The answer is yes."
"How do you know?"
"I don't – I can't – I just do. If you had died in that cave, Peeta, I can say one hundred percent without a doubt that I would have joined you shortly after."
"You would have – um – killed yourself?" He asks nervously.
"I'm sorry, Peeta, but yes," I nod and kiss his chest chastely. "I would never have risked leaving to try and fight someone. I would never have left you, if you were – if you were –" I can't even finish the thought.
"Shh," he coos, gathering me tighter in his arms. "I'm sorry I brought it up baby."
"It's okay," I try to tell him. "I guess I always knew it, but I never really thought about it until now."
"But what about – what about your promise to Prim? And your mom? And…..Gale?" He whispers the last name.
"I thought I'd be ashamed to say it, but I'm not. As soon as I found you by that river, you were the only person in this world that mattered enough to me to live on for." I actually have had this discussion with Prim. It was hard, and emotional, and involved a great deal of crying, but she understood better than I thought she would. She gets me like no one else, save Peeta.
"Oh, honey," he sighs, not really knowing how to respond.
"What if I had died, Peeta? What would you have done?" I turn it around on him.
"That one's easy," he surprises me by saying. "I would have hunted down whoever killed you, killed them, then joined you."
"But Peeta, you have a family. A life," I try.
He laughs.
"That's exactly what I said to you not five minutes ago, Katniss. We're one in the same, face it. It's just like you said. When we entered that Arena, you were the only reason I had for living on."
"Oh my god," I gasp. "I can't believe how much I love you right now."
"I know. It's pretty amazing how every second I somehow am able to love you that much more. I love you, Kat. Always."
"Forever."
We kiss, slowly and with passion, but just kiss. Even though we're already naked, we silently agree to not take it any farther, at least not right now.
"Kat?" He asks after a few minutes.
"Hmm?"
"Can we have more children? After the war?"
"You're out of your mind if you think that I'm going through that again," I deadpan.
"Oh," he says dejectedly. "Okay."
He turns his face away, hurt in his eyes. How come he can never tell when I'm obviously teasing? Maybe I need to work on it or something.
I reach up and gently cup his cheek, turning his face back to me.
"Peeta Mellark, you're out of your mind if you think that you're getting away without giving me at least two more children," I tell him seriously, looking him dead in the eye.
"R – r – really?" He says in disbelief, sounding like a little kid in wonder.
I nod vigorously.
"Probably more," I shrug casually.
His smile widens and reaches his eyes, and he leans down to kiss me.
"You know," he whispers against my lips, "that would take a great deal of practice, Mrs. Mellark."
"Well then we shouldn't waste another second, should we, Mr. Mellark?" I smirk and kiss him back.
When, hours later, we fall asleep, my thoughts aren't of the upcoming Quell, or trying to save Tributes. No, they're of a house by a lake, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread, paint splatter, game cooking on the stove, the sounds of pitter-patter of tiny feet on hardwood floors, and the laughs of a happy family.
A/N: So there's chapter 45.
I want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for your support and well wishes. It was like getting dozens of get well cards, and it really lifted my spirits every day I was in the hospital. I got out on Wednesday, but didn't feel up to writing until today. Truly, from the bottom of the heart, I was touched, and you all have my gratitude for your concern, patience, kind words, and hearts. You guys are the reason I write this story, and it was amazing to see how many of you were willing to extend your thoughts to someone you only know through this avenue.
Thank you.
So we're almost to the Arena, and that means the start of the Rebellion as well. I'm still debating on whether or not to end this story at the beginning of the Rebellion and start a new one. It does make sense considering this story has ballooned to over 200K words. What do you guys think? Any ideas for a title? If I do end up doing that, I will turn it into a trilogy, the third story obviously taking place after the war. Let me know your thoughts.
As always, thanks for the reviews and for diligently reading. You have no idea how much it means to me.
Keep reviewing and reading. Shabbat Shalom.
