She keeps kissing his slacked mouth, sucking on his lower lip or coaxing his mouth into responding or trying to tangle his tongue with her own. She swallows his moans and pleads, not wanting to stop kissing him, not wanting to pull away.
She keeps stroking him, up and down, up and down, utterly enraptured by his reaction. Her other arm wraps around his shoulders for support, fingers playing with the feathers at the juncture of his wings. But there's only so much, so much she can stand to tease him. She adjusts herself in his lap, straddling him on either side. Another kiss and she lowers herself on top of him, groaning at how hot and hard and velvety soft he feels inside of her.
Inside of her. Her eyes go wide and she stops mid-thrust. The birth control she found at the clinic might be effective, but she won't take any chances. Not a one. "Condom. We need a condom."
She nods quickly. They'd be safe, wouldn't they? To keep going, not to stop. Because she doesn't want to move, doesn't want to separate from his side at all.
It's stupid, maybe, but they've both done stupider. And she takes the medicine religiously. Every day at the same hour. Every day.
Don't stop. She nods and then kisses him, sinking back down on top of him. The fabric of his pants is rough on her thighs, a contrast to the way he feels inside. But she doesn't stop, doesn't want to at all.
"Ah." His hips move, pressing upwards as she sinks down, his hands gripping her hips, his lips against her neck, breath hot and heavy. She is so magnificent, does she know? She ought to know. "Katniss, you're so hot and tight and soft. I wish you could feel..."
"I can," she murmurs in response, concentrating on keeping the pace. She might not feel what he's feeling, but the sensations he elicits in her are incredible. Just as, she imagines. Maybe even more so. He fills her completely and every movement, every undulation makes her hunger for more. Another stroke, another touch, another kiss. More and more and more. Whether they see the fireworks tonight or not doesn't matter. She's convinced that she's feeling them now. Here. "I can feel you, Peeta. It's amazing. You're amazing."
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victorbychance) wrote2020-05-09 06:38 pm
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"Katniss. Oh, Katniss, please, Katniss..."
He doesn't even know what he's begging her for. No idea. She's doing this really, really well, although being inside her would be even better.
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She keeps stroking him, up and down, up and down, utterly enraptured by his reaction. Her other arm wraps around his shoulders for support, fingers playing with the feathers at the juncture of his wings. But there's only so much, so much she can stand to tease him. She adjusts herself in his lap, straddling him on either side. Another kiss and she lowers herself on top of him, groaning at how hot and hard and velvety soft he feels inside of her.
Inside of her. Her eyes go wide and she stops mid-thrust. The birth control she found at the clinic might be effective, but she won't take any chances. Not a one. "Condom. We need a condom."
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"Every day."
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It's stupid, maybe, but they've both done stupider. And she takes the medicine religiously. Every day at the same hour. Every day.
Don't stop. She nods and then kisses him, sinking back down on top of him. The fabric of his pants is rough on her thighs, a contrast to the way he feels inside. But she doesn't stop, doesn't want to at all.
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