victorbychance | OOC: Luceti Appointments

This girl, the girl behind the mask, can do anything. She can admit to being in love, admit it not just to herself but in public. She can tease and tempt the boy, even steal cake from a party without a second thought. It's thrilling, absolutely thrilling, and she doesn't want to stop.

And this girl isn't bashful when the dress falls to her waist, jewels sparkling and clinking, all giving way to exposing her naked chest. She just smiles, fingers now running across the bones of both his wings.

"Like that?"

"Oh, yes." And he keeps his promise of keeping his hands full of both of her breasts, applying a gentle massage he has had some chances to practice now.

He's always been good at keeping promises, but he's gotten so, so good at this, too. At finding the right pressure and places to touch her, to cause her nipples to tighten, to make her groan and arch her chest further into his hands.

"Peeta," she whispers before leaning in to find his lips for a slow, lingering kiss. "Perfect. Tonight's perfect."

He massages a little more firmly, then leans in to start planting kisses along her neck. "It is. Perfect." One hand ventures down over her belly before returning to her breast.

Even with the fireworks to come, she can't think of a better way to end the night. Because he's kissing her and touching her and she knows where all this will lead. And even though by now, they've done this so many times, it's still new. Every touch and every taste and every whisper. He was right about that.

Her head tilts to give him better access to her neck. Having her hair in the messy up-do means that there are only stray strands to get in the way and oh, her skin feels so sensitive and heated against his mouth. She shivers and slips a hand between their bodies, finding buttons to undo. The shirt has to go. Has to.

His hands join hers to help, and somehow in the resulting madness his shirt gets unbuttoned, his skin open to the air. He wraps his arms around her waist and spins her toward the bed.

She doesn't exactly have a lot of time to admire their handiwork before she's being twirled around towards the bed. She giggles and wraps her arms around his neck for balance as she walks backwards. The dress drags behind her and she kicks at the yards of fabric until it falls off, leaving her clad in nothing but panties and mask.

And not at all embarrassed for once. Not even a little.

And it is a magnificent change. Peeta wastes no time in slipping her panties off and admiring her naked-except-for-mask, rocking back on his heels to take in the view.

It's the mask. It's entirely the mask. But maybe more than that, it's the fun she's having right now. Fun she never thought she'd have, fun that he's taught her. By now, Katniss knows that she'll never stop owing Peeta Mellak. But rather than feel uncomfortable at the fact, she's grateful for it. Grateful for every little thing he's ever done for her.

She props herself up on her forearms, watching him study her body. The look on his face excites her, makes her smile all over again. "Do you see something you like?"

He grins. "Something I like a lot." He leans over her again, one hand trailing down her stomach. As it gets lower, he switches to a single finger, running down the length of her before sliding into her body.

She beams at him, a swell of delight building inside at the compliment. It is better this way. Enjoying him, enjoying his words, enjoying the way his bigger and broader body seems to envelope her own.

Her eyes flutter close when he resumes his explorations from early, a trail of heat following in the wake of his fingers. She sighs and squirms against the pillows on the bed, happy and content and-

"Oh!" She hadn't expected that. Not this soon. Grey eyes now wide, she bends a leg and tries to move a little against that finger and hand. "Oh, Peeta."

He loves, loves hearing her say his name like that. That he's the one doing this to her and no one else, that she loves what he is doing.

In the course of their experimentation, they have learned that mouths can go anywhere hands can go. Peeta slides the finger deeper in, slowly, then out. As he keeps it up, he bends low over her, breath ghosting between her legs, warm and damp. Maybe he can make her come twice tonight.

His lips seal over her, and he touches his tongue between...

He's the only one she ever wants to do this with, the only boy she ever wants touching her, the only body she ever wants to touch like this. She can't ever imagine being this close to anyone else, not even Gale. She doesn't want to.

She still rests partially on her forearms, back propped up a bit by pillows. The adventurous girl in the mask wants to watch and memorize every little thing Peeta does to her body tonight. Her toes curl when he starts up a lazy rhythm with his finger, eliciting more happy gasps from her lips. Then he's doing that thing again, that thing they've tried only a couple of times before.

If his breath is like an electric shock to her system, that's nothing compared to when his tongue touches her. She moans loudly, unabashedly. "Perfect."

He holds back just so he has somewhere to go, but the strokes of his tongue are still firm. Her moans raise the hair on his arms...and something else, he can feel in his slacks. With his free hand, he unbuttons himself to relieve a little of the pressure, then removes the hand to stroke up and down one of her thighs.

It's a brief and smug smile that crosses her face when he has to unbutton his pants. While there's no doubt in her mind that he's enjoying this, it's nice to see proof of it. Always nice to be reminded just how she affects him.

She spreads her legs wider for him, one knee pointing straight up while the other remains only slightly bent. She feels greedy, so utterly desperate for more and more of those tongue strokes, of those fingers on her heated skin. It's not enough. Can it ever be enough?

"More, Peeta," she mumbles between gasping breaths. The ache builds between her legs, aided by the anticipation building all night. "Harder. Please? More?"

He applies more pressure with his tongue and slips a second finger inside her, in and out in a firm, steady rhythm. His free hand lands on the inside of her thigh and presses outward, spreading her further before sliding back to curve around one buttock. Not caressing, merely warming. She is so, so soft and warm on the inside that he squirms a little, growing impatient.

Watching is such a different experience from merely participating. There's something so very, very arousing in all of this, in actually seeing Peeta bring her to climax rather than just closing her eyes and letting it happen.

Never looking away, she adjusts her balance on forearms and moves one hand down to cover a breast. That she can massage her own breasts like he does is still a new idea to her. And that he seems to like it when she does it. She brushes her thumb over the peak and gasps, gasping again when he pushes another finger inside of her.

Between his tongue and hands and, yes, even her own touch, it doesn't take much more. Her eyes finally shut and her head lolls back on her shoulder as she moans loudly, shaking around his fingers. "Peeta, oh, Peeta. I love you, love you so much."

He does like it when she touches herself, and it's the only thing that can make him break his head away from her body and look up, fingers still working in her. A little moan escapes him as he watches her arch, trembling, still wet and hot around his fingers. He pushes a third in while she is still climaxing, hoping to prolong it.

When he moans, she forces her eyes open to look. She smiles at him, pleased with his reaction. He looks so handsome and it's still amazes her so very much that someone like Peeta could love her this much. How he can put aside his own needs and desires to make this moment last practically forever.

She laughs when her body starts to settle and sits up to lean forward, reaching to remove the mask so that she could shower a rain of kisses on his face.

He twists so that he's sitting on the bed, pulling her into his lap. When the mask comes off his face at last, his blue eyes are looking up at hers, wide and intense.

"Katniss..."

Those blue eyes are beautiful, always a wonder when they direct that intensity at her. She pauses the rain of kisses to smile back, stroking his bare cheek with her thumb. Unable to resist, she wriggles on his lap.

"Yeah, Peeta?"

He squirms against her in return.

"Please?"

She beams at him, giggling again when he begins to squirm. The giggle quickly becomes a groan when his erection brushes against her. Oh, that's nice. Maybe even nicer than his fingers or mouth.

"Yes," she answers, breathing the word against lips before capturing them in a kiss.

Her hand slips down his chest, fingers slow and teasing as they brush by his belly button and even further down. She pulls at the zipper of his pants and then reaches inside. For all the times they've had sex, she hasn't touched him nearly as much as he's touched her. She's always felt too awkward and too afraid, afraid he'll not like it or she'll somehow break him. But tonight's a good night. A perfect night. Without breaking the kiss, she pulls out his erection and strokes it firmly.

He emits a long, strangled gasp, and his mouth stays open. His chest heaves, and his hips drive upward against her strokes.

"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.

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."

OOC: Luceti Appointments

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)