"I still don't know if I've had enough," I tease as I wrap my arms around him from behind. He laughs; he hadn't even made it to the stairs before I'd asked him for more. I could feel the inevitable rejection coming my way so I quickly stripped myself of the rest of my clothes. He turns around and holds me.
"You've become a master seductress," he comments, kissing my neck. "What about what I wanted to show you?" he asks. I carefully scrape my nails along his back and give a soft moan, kissing his bicep. It just enough to show him how badly I really wanted him.
"It can't wait?" I question. He sighs.
"I guess it can." I hadn't imagined it would be that easy. He suddenly has me scooped up in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist before he carries me to the couch where we call against each other, him cradling me in his arms from above. "Just remind me that I have to get back to the bakery by four," he says against my skin, sliding in. He's still hard.
"You got it chief," I say lightly, trying not to moan too loudly.
"You're so wet," he says in a heavy breath, pulling back to grin at me before our hips fall into a steady rhythm.
"It's your fault," I tell him, wrapping my legs around him tighter and requesting he go faster. This time wasn't as heated and rushed as the last, but it still felt damn good.
"Fuck, it feels so…sensitive…," he whispers, closing his eyes as we move. There isn't too much screaming, or moaning, but there is an overwhelming amount of love. Soon though I can feel myself nearing that edge, sooner than before.
"I'm close," I tell him, and he groans into my neck. He starts to thrust harder, and I clutch him closely, moaning his name. My cries of euphoria grow, and soon I'm nearly as loud as I was on the counter a few minutes ago.
"Oh baby," Peeta groans as he kisses me, "you're so fucking sexy." We panted heavily and suddenly he's saying the same thing over and over again. "I love you, I love you, I love you," and I realize exactly how much my hormones have gotten in the way of our sex life. I haven't truly made love to Peeta in weeks…
"I love you too, my sweet Peeta," I pant softly, pressing my lips passionately against his. From that point on we're making sweet love, and every moment is so rich and so beautiful that I can't help but scream out his name with every movement, his moans falling between mine in perfect harmony.
I'm falling off that edge, and I start climaxing, kissing him with all I had. I whimper and bury my face in his neck, rocking my hips against his. I ride it out for as long as I can, touching Peeta's body and indulging myself in him until I can't take it anymore.
He pulls out and starts touching himself, breathing hitched and guttural moans spilling out with ecstasy. After a few more seconds his release clings to my stomach, some of it even landing on my breasts. His face is tucked away in my neck, and when it's over he kisses me, and this is the point where we both finally stop moaning. I don't even have the chance to wrap my arms around him and sigh before there's a frantic pounding on the front door. We both jolt, momentarily scared shitless.
"I just died a little bit," Peeta complained, face and body still glistening, cheeks blushing a deep pink. "I'll get it," he says. I nod and he stands up, finding his boxers in a pile with his pants by the counter. That was when I noticed he hadn't even bothered to take the prosthetic leg off. Wow, his body is so great… He looks so amazing in those boxers…
"You're not going to answer the door like that are you?" I question from the couch, wrapping the blanket around myself.
"Why not," he shrugs.
"It's winter, and the air is cold outside!"
"Too late," he chimes as he swings the door open to reveal a very hazy and pissed off looking Haymitch. He storms in and points a finger at us both, ranting off immediately.
"Come right in," Peeta mutters to himself, closing the door.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to endure one round with you two? Why can't you be satisfied with just one?! You're the ones making me do this! You can't just scream bloody murder and not expect anyone else to hear you; this isn't your own personal porno!" We both listen to him go on and on about how nasty is for him to hear this every hour of every day.
"Now that's hardly true," Peeta retorts, reaching for his pants. I hitch the blankets up higher around my shoulders.
"Really? Did you not just finish round two?" Haymitch snaps, pointing to me. Peeta blushes.
"Exactly."
"Is that the reason you came over?" Peeta wonders, handing me the rest of my clothes. "Because we're done now," he says.
"No." Haymitch's mood shifts, and he suddenly looks like he's about to give us bad news. I knew it never bothered him before, but over the years I know he's grown attached to us. "A young lady came to my door earlier, as we were talking I started to realize she was from the capital. As soon as she said Peetas name as if right on cue we could hear you two going at it," Haymitch shrugs and looks down, obviously avoiding the rest of what he has to tell us.
"Well…who is she?" Peeta asks, pulling a jacket on, preparing to go back to work probably.
"Didn't get a name, but she came here for you, just didn't know which house you lived in. Found me instead. She's outside," he says, gesturing to the door. Peeta rolls his eyes.
"Winter just ended, it's freezing out Haymitch," Peeta grumbles as he goes over to the door and flinging it open. He stands still, stuttering incoherently as he takes in who was here. I finish slipping on my clothes inconspicuously before he lets her in, without a word.
The woman has long bleach blond hair, almost white, and she is stunning.
She's also holding a child, fast asleep in her arms. He has curly blond hair, and I was certain that if he opened his eyes they would be bright blue. Just like Peetas.