"I just don't want you to bite me," Peeta says nervously, but I can tell this was something the capitol women had not stolen from him. I was going to be the first time for both of us. He was right though; if I bit him he would be in immense pain. He was sensitive anyway, so biting him while making love in this particular way would be terrible. But this was about us, not the pleasure, thought that would be particularly increased on his end tonight…

"I love you Peeta," I whisper, and I know that I say it way too often, but I feel like I have to. I'm afraid that I'll lose him again and I'll be left to raise this baby with a father who is trapped in his own mind. It was painful enough watching my mother go through it, while I was raising Prim. I couldn't do it again.

Nevertheless, he picks me up and pulls me closer to his chest, whispering the same words to me and trapping me in a mind blowing kiss, fireworks sparkling everywhere like they usually do. His arms are wrapped tightly around me, and despite his young age and innocent face and attire, he was ready to be a father. And I was ready to be a mother.

That was when I started kissing down is neck again, and he sighed in pleasure. Even that was enough to make the butterflies appear in my stomach. I couldn't wait to pleasure him, to let love shine the way, as cheesy as that sounds. His skin was soft, and I soon got to the base of his throat, then his collarbone.

I pulled away and said, "Okay, let's get these clothes off." It didn't sound like something I would normally be able to say with confidence, so the underlying tone of the statement was really like help me because I'm just as nervous as you are and if you took your clothes off things would progress easier.

"Okay, I just hope you know what you're doing," he replies nervously.

"We don't have to," I say back, sensing the hesitancy in the air.

"No it's okay I've just never done it before…"

"You had never made love before we were on the tour and yet you weren't as scared then," I pointed out. His gray cotton shirt was tossed to the floor. How could a baker be this muscular? He must do more than lift flower.

"I know…" He looked down, unbuttoning his work pants.

I lean down from his side, kissing his stomach and he leans back slightly. I touch his fingers as they mess with the zipper, shaking. I move my lips half an inch closer and he jumps, falling out of bed and stumbling to his feet quicker than I could pull my head back up.

"Sorry," he mutters, embarrassed before groaned and limping out the door with his pants dragging down, pinched up where his prosthetic leg had snatched the fabric and kept it caught there.

By the time I caught him he had his head stuck in the refrigerator, his pants halfway down his butt and his dark gray boxers hugging his hips. When he turned he had his mouth stuffed with cake, the cake he'd made with us and the cornucopia.

"I need reassurance," he said around the food in his mouth. I laughed. "Can you help?" he asks as he turns towards the counter, gesturing to where his pants were caught in his leg. I bent down, ignoring the chills my shirtless lovers body gave me.

"Reassurance for what?" I ask, unhooking his pants from his leg, then moving my hands to his zipper. "Can I?" I ask, giving him the warmest smile I could while doing the most seductive thing I've ever accomplished; rubbing his crotch. He leaned on his elbows against the counter and leaned his head back.

Whispering, "Oh god," under his breath, he nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. I leaned back against the cupboards on the other side, across from the island he was leaning on. He opened his eyes and looked at me expectantly. "I just wanted assurance from myself, if I can make a cake good then I can make love good," he says.

"Well," I correct. "Make love well," I add in a softer tone. He smiles, bending down on his knees to kiss me softly. "And you can make love better than you can make cakes, and your cakes are heaven," I laugh, touching his hair.

"Really?" he asks, leaning against the opposite counter. I nod.

"Yeah, it's not heaven when you make love to me, it's like an explosion. But a good explosion," I say. He looks down, then back up, confidence radiation off of him. He grabs my hand and pulls me up, kissing my lips once before going over to the living room, almost running into something on the way there seeing as the lights were still off and it was dark outside.

He knelt down by the fireplace and sparked a fire, and then his face was more visible.

"Now I'm ready," he turns to me and smiles widely. "I guess it was really just your assurance I needed, that you love me enough."

"Of course I love you," I respond, holding him tightly.

I feel his arms moving, taking his pants off, and then his hands moving up my body, cupping my breasts. I sighed, still not used to the feeling of him touching me there; it was such a male thing to do. Of course this was Peeta, but he was still a man, and he still wanted certain things. It almost made me laugh. I in return kissed him, touching him where I had back in the kitchen, and I got the same reaction. He was definitely hard enough for this.

"Get on the couch," I instructed, thinking it would be better positioning that way. He nodded, nervous again, but a good nervous, an excited nervous. He sat up on the couch, looking slightly confused but still happy, at least happy enough to let me try. Then his boxers were out of the way, and my naked lover looked at me, the same blue eyes that have been looking at me since I was sixteen. I smiled back and spread his legs slightly. He scooted forward, his hands at his sides and his eyes closed a little too tightly. "Relax Peeta, why are you so nervous?" I asked, positioning myself between his knees on the floor, getting comfortable. Who knows how long I'll be here…

"I'm just…self-conscious. I've never had anybody inspect me this closely before, I don't want you to be disappointed," he says quietly, touching my face, moving his fingers to my hair and beginning to undo my braid. My hair fell against my shoulders and he sighed, "You're so beautiful," in a whisper.

"And you are too, every part of you," I tell him. He just smiles back, looking down at nothing. A few moments pass and nothing happens, so I tilt my head up and kiss him to distract him the motions my hands are beginning to perform sloppily. But he notices, and gasps at the contact. I'd never really touched him before, only a few times but not for longer than a second.

I was relying on common knowledge to touch Peeta, and the one time I had seen him masturbate, over a year ago in a hotel while we were on the tour. He knew exactly where my weak spots were and hot to manipulate them, but I was going into this blind, so I simply wrapped my fingers around the base of his manhood and started to stroke. He pulled away, breathing funny, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sorry!" I react hurriedly. "Am I doing it wrong?" I start to panic and stop the movement of my fingers.

"No! Not at all, keep going, please," he begs, letting his head fall back against the couch while holding my shoulders in his hands. I start the motions again, this time adding my other hand for more coverage, and before I know it he's moaning. "God," he sighs.

"Does it really feel that good?" I ask. "I just started."

"Well it feels good, but it's when you added both hands…," he says, looking at me with a smile on his face. "Would you…?" he gestured to me. I looked down, clearly confused.

"What?"

He leans down, his hands on my shoulders going underneath my clothes, sliding them up and off.

"I want to see you," he whispers, leaning forward as far as he could to kiss my neck sensually.

I shiver, the newly exposed skin betraying me with goosebumps. The only thing I can think of to do is to stand up and push him back against the couch. If he kept kissing my neck like that I couldn't focus on the task at hand, and we haven't even gotten close to where we were supposed to be.

The carpet was going to hurt my knees if I was naked, so I planned on getting up with him in a moment. But first I wanted to tease him. I stood and removed my bra, tossing it onto the floor, and Peeta's hands twitched as his lustful blue eyes watched me with admiration and love.

I unbuttoned my jeans and started to pull them down, slowly, knowing that the slower I went the more anxious he would get. He couldn't take it anymore, and he began touching himself. I observed his movements, the way he paid attention to the head as well as the rest of his length. He returned there often. That was it; that must be his weak spot!

He was moving fast, and once my jeans were on the floor I decided to waste no time in removing the last of my clothing. He closed his eyes and moaned sweetly, his fingers visibly tightening. There was something beautiful about watching Peeta pleasure himself, and I almost didn't want to disturb it. That is until he said my name.

"Come here," he instructed. And I ignored the exposure eating away at my conscience. Only Peeta could see me. I was only naked for him, as he was naked for me. He kissed me passionately, rubbing my body while still pleasuring himself. When he pulled away he was panting, trembling almost. "I could just watch you," he says, his voice almost faltering as he holds back moans. "There's so much beauty in just the way your hair falls over your shoulders," he swallows another moan but it's getting harder, "the way it frames your face." He closes his eyes again and whimpers. "God I'm getting closer!" he pants, holding me close, his breath becoming more and more erotic.

"Lay back, and move your hands," I say, watching him turn and lay on the couch while I get between his legs again. He lays back and looks at me expectantly, but lovingly. I lay on my stomach and begin to touch him, confidence suddenly overtaking me and I'm moving forward, licking up his length. He's very warm and his taste is unusual yet amazing. I move my mouth other places, exploring him. I wanted to taste everywhere. Above me he's groaning, and I know I'm doing something right.

Then I remember his weak spot, and though I have absolutely no idea how to perform oral sex, the thought just comes to me. Putting my mouth over the head, I start to suck.

"Katniss!" he gasps, his fingers shooting to my hair, weaving in between the curls and securing me in place. I must be doing this right. I let my tongue explore, tasting every millimeter while letting my hands stroke his length like he had. He begins moaning, and one of his hands journeys down to mine, tightening my fingers' grip beneath his own. "Ohhh, sweetheart, this is so amazing," he whispers through moist lips, voice tender and fragile. "I'm so close Katniss," he tells me as he returns his hand back to my hair. I keep my fingers in a tight grip and move as fast as I could while trying to move him further into my mouth. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever tried to accomplish, but I was nearly halfway down when he started to pull out, whimpering. At first I was confused, but as I was nearly up to the top again he started to push in. Oh, I get it now.

I use my free hand to rub his arm, letting him know I can handle it from here. I start to move my mouth up and down, the saliva and the lack of oxygen annoying but the nuisances quickly vanishing as soon as Peeta's voice graces my ears. I understood it now; this is how you pleasure your lover orally.

There was no way to describe the beautiful sounds Peeta made, the way his hands moved from my hair to my shoulders and my neck and back up again. The entire experience was ecstatic, even for me because I knew the love of my life was happy.

"Katniss!" he gasped suddenly. "God Katniss! I'm coming!" he whimpers my name softly and I pull off of his manhood as quickly as possible. If there was one thing a woman knew it was that if you swallowed a mans sperm, you would become ill. He pulled me in as soon as my mouth was free, crushing his lips against mine briefly before the impact of his orgasm took over his lips and his voice. I felt the warm sticky fluid attach to my stomach, and his strong arms wrapped around me, pressing my body against his and smearing away the evidence. It was over, but his lips caught mine once again and we began kissing. We just couldn't end the night like this. One thing's for sure, I'll be able to cross making love to Peeta next to a fire off my bucket list after tonight.