Doing this wasn't what it used to be. Sexy couldn't come to describe how the things we did amounted to words, it was like we brought ourselves to a new world. Or maybe it was just me, or the hormones, but I certainly knew one thing; aside from the morning sickness, I loved being pregnant. My body was sensitive, it was new, it was like this life growing inside me not only brought me to a new level of happiness that I haven't achieved in years but also made the air tenderer.

My skin felt the emotions that Peeta's body radiated. The environment around me was rich, the colors brighter and far more vibrant. Like the life had slowly crept back into the world one leaf at a time.

Sex with Peeta was like equivalent to being bathed in honey while also falling through the sky and flying through the clouds during a lighting storm. It was electrifying and every nerve ending in my body was a life wire, any spark of communication and it would convulse rapidly. It was times like this that I was eternally grateful we were the only ones in the victors' village, and Haymitch was almost always asleep. I was screaming, the point of bloody murder.

Like I said, everything was heightened, increased, bigger, per say. And yes, he was bigger. It didn't just feel that way, but when we'd first had intercourse he was still coming out of adolescence, and wasn't done growing. God, it was satisfying, it was like his body was advancing at the same rate as mine. The more I wanted him the bigger he got, and I was perfectly content with him now. He was amazing, and felt so god damn good.

"Harder," I demanded in what was left of my raspy voice, he buried his face in my neck and groaned in ecstasy, complying mercifully. I was on the kitchen counter, Peeta standing between my legs thrusting in and out as hard and fast as he could. Thankfully I wasn't going to let this last just a few seconds; I needed it to be as long as possible. We'd started quickly, not even bothering to remove all of our clothes, just the ones in the way of our sexual demands. I was glad; his shirt was safer to hang on to as he delved deeper into me. If he wasn't wearing clothes I would hold him so tightly I might hurt him, pull his hair too hard.

"Fuck, Katniss," he breaths heavily, "too fast," he warned. I nodded and held him tighter, trying to slow his movements and keep his hips from rocking too quickly. He was trembling.

This was the one downside to sex with Peeta; he came too quickly. His body isn't capable of doing this again and again and again so I've learned that the only way to keep going hard and fast is to stop when he's getting close, kiss, and continue as soon as he's far enough from his peak. His pants fell from his hips and dropped to the floor as he slowed, my legs crossing behind his back, pushing him further into me, causing us both to moan a string of profanities.

"So deep," I whimpered into his ear, and he whimpered pitifully in response, desperately trying to regain his jagged breath as he quits his movements completely. I was dominant in this sex life now, and he loves it.

"You're," pants, "so," pants, "insane, sweetheart." He pulls back to kiss me, nibbling on my bottom lip and running his tongue across it. I grant him entry and part my lips slowly, running my tongue along his, a fight for dominance. This was where Peeta sometimes tried to take me into his grip; he was a man after all.

Sometimes he was dominant, and that was so very exciting. The thought drove me insane and my wet center began throbbing around his aching manhood. We both needed this, but we'd need it more if we finished this early. But instead we ravaged each other's lips on this countertop, devouring each other. It was pure heated passion and desire as he kissed my neck, bodies fitting together perfectly, hips steadily starting to rock again. We both gasped at the feeling of this delicious grinding.

"Do it," I growl, taking his hair in my fingers and crushing my lips against his. "Take me, Peeta Mellark," I moan, clutching at every visible part of skin. At this point pain was a good thing, it kept us from flying away to heaven, so I tugged his shirt up and pulled it over his head. He looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his, clouded with pleasure and cheeks blazing, lips parted and panting vigorously. His eyebrows pulled together and he dug his fingers into my hips, leaning his head back and thrusting hard. I was torn. I wanted to see his face, I wanted to see the pleasure I caused him and he wanted the same, but I also wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to love him as close as possible. I yanked him close and kissed him to keep from screaming again.

"Harder?" he questioned, wrapping his arms around me and pulling us closer together, a sign that he was ready to climax and spend the rest of the night with me in his arms. I thought to myself how sweet that sounded, so agreed to let him orgasm the next time the opportunity presented itself.

"Fuck, yes, I'm close," I nod, throwing my head back and squeezing my legs around his waist. He doesn't stop moaning and neither do I; we can do nothing but go insane in our own minds and keep thrusting.

"I'm there," he warns, moving faster, more than I thought possible at this point. "I'm gunna-," but I pull him closer before he can form coherent words, and I can see the massive explosion of pleasure erupt in his eyes. His jaw falls open, his eyes are squeezed shut tightly in preparation, and he's screaming. He's screaming like me, but it's masculine, manly, sexy, firm, and it sends chills through my body, and I feel my own explosion.

It wasn't often that we climax together, but when we do it's quite a blessing. I guess this was just one of those times, only further proving that this was the best sex of my life. But there's something different about it this time, something coming out of me, but I don't think I realize really what it was until after we've evened our breathing enough to think straight.

"Tell me it's always gunna be this amazing after we have our baby," he pants, and as I pull back to look at him I can't help but laugh and smile from happiness. His face is red, and I can feel his entire body throbbing. His eyes are half closed, a grin forming on his open mouth, blue eyes sparkling brightly beneath the shaggy dirty blond hair that was basically everywhere. I could only imagine how slaphappy I looked.

"I wish I could tell you it would be," I reply, starting to think more about what had happened with my orgasm. No doubt it was possibly the best I've ever felt, but what had come out of me? Two things occurred to me; there was something wrong with the baby, or I'd ejaculated. I'd only heard about it from the vulgar part of society and the media, referred to as 'squirting'. It was weird, and I didn't think it possible for me, or common to say the least.

"So hot baby," Peeta whispers, kissing my lips over and over and again, intimately, calming down from the crazy state we were just in. He must really be horny, because he doesn't call me baby anywhere but in bed. Or, on the counter. We were still intertwined, and I didn't bother to remind him.

"What is?"

"You, coming with me, you've never done it that way before," he grins. So he had noticed. I nod, thinking it over.

"It was very interesting," I tell him, kissing him this time for a long time, just pressing my lips against his in a long, passionate, drawn out lip lock.

"It was very hot!" he exclaims when we finally part. "I've never been so happy to leave work early, you're an animal!" I grin, happy that I'd pleased him.

"I know, it's hard to believe," I chuckle. He laughs and hugs me tightly, kissing my neck and moaning with content, a calming sound.

"Let's go get washed up, I wanna show you something," he says, seductively pulling out, slowly, agonizingly. He knows it turns me on to do this. Dominance was a loose term in this relationship indeed.