People, I'm alive! I know, I know. It's been a long time. The year was a whirlwind of getting sick for me and no, it's not an excuse. I was really sick and it's the reason why I haven't updated. But here's the next chap now and it's 4, 800+ words!
Thank you, again for reading this story. Hope you like this coz it's their date! (wink wink) ;)
No, he wasn't angry at all. Surprisingly, not at all.
But perhaps, there was a slight annoyance that somebody from the outlying districts beat him from getting the highest score, but then that was overcome by the fact that one, Marvel got a shitty score, two, District 2 still has the highest average score, and by the fact that even if Katniss did get an 11, he was happy for himself that he got entangled with someone who wasn't a weakling and that no matter what she does at the moment, she was still at his mercy.
Shivering in his hold, Cato reveled in the feeling of pride and amusement as the tribute who got an 11 was trembling from something she couldn't see. The scrawny girl in his grasp placed her arms around his neck—not willingly as he observed. For every few steps nearer the water, a tiny and almost inaudible squeak would reach his ears that inevitably pointed out to him that Katniss was frantic. It didn't help that the sound echoed inside this room and bounced back with a magnified intensity and he couldn't do anything about that except hold her closer to him which no doubt, she wouldn't want. The dependency on him; however, it kind of turned him on.
In between deep breaths, his captive just managed to choke out a few words. "W-where are we?!" There was a distinct trace of distress despite attempts to making it sound as calm as possible.
Cato smirked. "You'll find out soon enough."
Momentarily releasing his arm supporting her back, he took both her wrists behind his neck and tucked them to her side, held together by his one hand to prevent her from taking off her blindfold.
The soles of his feet kept moving forward, finally moving towards the shallow part of the artificial sea. Sand squished in between his toes as the water rose from the soles of his feet, to his ankles, and to his waist. The water was lukewarm, and inch by inch, Katniss was feeling it as well. Her butt and the tips of her toes were the first to get wet; and the deeper he went, more of her was being submerged until she was almost already floating in his arms. Water continued to seep into the pleats of her dress and ever so excruciatingly slow, the licks of the water caused an onslaught of goosebumps appearing on her arms and shoulders.
Removing the arm holding the back of her knees, he rubbed the visible chill with his palm to create some warmth from the friction. Katniss had cringed at first, but had let him continue to do so when a growl escaped from her throat.
"I swear, when we I get out of here, I'm going to—"
"You-re going to what?" Even though Katniss couldn't see him, he raised an eyebrow.
No response. Hmph. A smirk formed on his lips while a pout was carved on hers.
Cato couldn't but feel slightly satisfied with himself that he finally elicited tiny flashes of agitation and desperation from the Girl on Fire. If there was anyone who has never shown fear of him that was not from his district, then it would be Katniss Everdeen. Only her. It occurred to him that he should be insulted because compared to a living, breathing, dangerous and beyond strong career, she chose to be petrified by a fucking oversized swimming pool. Not that he wanted her to be scared of him now, he just wanted to tease her a bit before he rolls out his plan for the rest of the evening.
Slowing down to until the water reaches his shoulder, he felt the girl's breath hitching on his collarbone; and his nimble fingers went immediately to the blindfold. A slight pang of pity coursed through his consciousness when the supposedly gray eyes were closed shut, her lips were in a straight line and her brows met in blatant trepidation. But he knew he had to do this. It was part of his plan. Placing a hand behind her neck, and an arm around her shoulders, he muttered two words: "Deep breath."
And with that, Cato bent his knees and brought Katniss with him.
The water swallowed their bodies whole with the machine-made currents swooshing their balance underneath. Still, his strong legs controlled any sudden movements and had allowed him to remain standing and with her still safe. The bluish-green hue of the mass volume enveloped and covered them in its alien glow. Luminescent was their skin under the water and other-worldly was their appearance. Peering just at the bottom of his chin he finally found the strangely beautiful gray orbs finally glancing at back, faintly hidden from the loose curls swaying gracefully about from her face, only tainted with undisguised horror.
Blinking in consternation, he was surprised when Katniss pulled him closer and wrapped her legs around his waist. Ear-to-ear, their bodies met as she pressed herself shamelessly against his frame in a tight embrace. He knew it wasn't seduction, nor was it any indication that she was happy and grateful to him for taking him here.
Katniss was terrified.
She knew that he was carrying her like a sleeping toddler, but none of that matters as she was still alive and didn't drown.
Sucking in a large amount of air, she breathed deeply when both their heads popped into the surface. She might have looked like a fish just out of water wrapped like a barnacle around the muscular body that held her, but she couldn't care less. With hair just scattered all over his shoulders and obstructing her vision, she coughed into her system the oxygen that was lacking when they were down there. It was the most important thing at the moment though his palms dug onto her naked thighs to maintain her position and that her lower body was rubbing dangerously close to his equally naked torso.
The pool might have been lukewarm, but once the air had started blowing into their skin as Cato went for more shallow water, it became strikingly apparent that the only thing that can be considered warm—or rather hot—was his breath on her shoulder and the lack of space between their bodies.
"Katniss." His chest reverberated from the sound of his voice. It was almost a whisper but with an audible tone—the kind he used last night.
Strong arms circled around her waist as he murmured into her hair. "Hey. We're out of the water. I can put you down if you want to."
Snapping out of her thoughts, she jumped down without any warning and stumbled backwards into what she now recognizes as sand. Cato steadies her with one hand as she looked around into a replica of a beach. The sea with the waves was the bath, and on the shore, where they are, is a large bed, a dining table for two, a pantry, and another door which she assumes where the toilets are located. The place was a cheap copy of nature, with species of colorful birds in their cages, fans that blow warm wind, and the video ceiling which showed a clear blue sky and the glaring fake sun. Admittedly, the room was beautiful but it was a distinctly Capitol creation.
Now eyeing the hand that was still on her shoulder, her hand rose in reflex and slapped it away. Cato narrowed his eyes then, but anger oozed from his being when with all her strength, she shoved him as hard as she could and bolted towards the door.
Striding as fast the length of her legs will take her, her skirt clung like second skin. Her hair blew wildly with her speed, and her feet left a trail of sand each leap and jump she gave. It was a familiar predicament that she was in, and the blood pumped in her veins as heavy footsteps followed her closely. Once again adrenaline was injected into the moment and disbelief muddled all reason from this current predicament.
It was only a few minutes ago that Cato took her from District 12's suite and didn't even give her a chance to breathe and push him away before he pulled out long pieces of cloth to keep her immobile and unable to fight, scream, nor see. But upon being thrown over his shoulder, she mustered up all the strength to struggle against his grip though the bonds that tied her were expertly knotted around the intended areas for effective captivity, ensuring a more or less zero possibility for any plan of escape.
And that's how she got to where they are now.
Barely even glancing to the boy behind her, all energy was drained when a force hauled her backward onto a rock-hard wall—Cato's body. Seizing her from the spot, he gruffly hoisted her up, with arms and legs flailing uncontrollably from his hold.
Katniss immediately found her voice. "Let go!"
Her demand unmet, his grip tightened as his feet strode towards the far end of the shore. The roughness of his actions and the clenched jaw indicated that that he was clearly and glaringly pissed. The cold blue of his eyes lacked the usual mischievousness and the awkward expression of concern that he seems to show in extremes when he was with her. The evident exhibition of his strength, she knew, was a brawny display of what he could do and came as an act of intimidation to prevent her from doing anything stupid.
He wasn't even looking at her.
Only with a steady gaze did he move forward despite her boisterous and violent protests. His feet didn't stumble or slow down, keeping his pace despite her lack of cooperation. It seemed that the room was big enough for her to make his travel difficult to the other end of the room, but between the blue of the phony sky and the sight of his chin, her world suddenly tumbled once over and then she was standing upright once again under the annoyed, scrutinizing glare of the tall tribute.
Landing Katniss on her feet, Cato kept her nailed in place with warning in his eyes and crossed his arms. He trailed over her lithe form and noticed each blink, each strand of hair, and every drop of water trailing over her skin, as well as the pretty dress clinging desperately to her curves. The girl in front of him was undoubtedly furious and out of breath. Her pinkish hands were still curled in fists and recognized the result of them pounding fruitlessly onto his chest. Permeating through her stare was distrust, a suspicion and an undeniable look of disgust—it was different than last night or this morning, even when he caught her by surprise and kissed her.
With gritted teeth, he spoke each syllable with poorly-veiled irritation. "What is wrong with you?"
Katniss took a slight step forward and raised her voice. "Well, what's wrong with you? Why did you try to drown me?" She had taken an offensive stance and pushed him with half her strength.
Raising his arms in mockery, he couldn't help but snort at her accusation. Why would he drown her?
"This isn't funny." She pointed out.
Locking her in his gaze, he moved in. Bridging the gap between them, he took a confident step forward, and another, and another, until he backed Katniss to where he wanted her to be. Each advance of his foot was placing her nearer to vulnerability; and as his steps became more rapid, she became increasingly unaware where he was taking her. Eyeing the back of her knees, he held on to her shoulders lightly and allowed himself to gaze upon her eyes blinking in shock and her form as it fell into the sheets of the king-sized bed.
Cato stood over her as she lay defenseless in front of him. Indignation flashing in her expression, hair disheveled, clothes crumpled—it was a familiar sight that will forever be embedded into his mind. He knew that there will be a lot of fighting on her part now that she was in his favorite position—on a bed. The corner of his lips tugged upward at the thought.
But, no matter how much he wanted to play with her, they needed to talk first. Or both.
Covering her body with his, he leveled himself until they were eye to eye. Katniss was beneath him as she has been before and he wouldn't lie in saying that in breathing in her earthy scent, the proximity was making the false humidity hotter. Agonizingly slow, he took one reluctant wrist and the other in his two hands and placed them above her head; and almost instantaneously, she was thrashing against his chiseled and dominant form. Her head moved from side to side, her legs helplessly kicking into the air, as her torso bumped unwillingly against his.
Maintaining control despite her restlessness, his words came out soft yet demanding. "Why would I drown you, Katniss?"
With defiance, she refused to answer. No words came out of her mouth, but rather in response, she looked at him like the reason was strikingly apparent. His grip on her tensed with her lack of words. "I can't read minds, you know."
Again, he was met with silence.
He knows what to do.
Inching his face closer to hers, he planted butterfly kisses on the sides of her face—taking his sweet time as his lips landed on her temple, her brows, her eyes, her cheeks, her jaw, her chin—mindful of the injuries she incurred. Unable to stop there, he wandered at the bottom and the corners of her mouth, lingering on the sensitive patch of skin to punish her lips by denying them a kiss. Each kiss rendered a gasp, a whimper, or a shudder from pleasure and fright; and Katniss tilted her face to the side of her arm to guard her from his attentions.
"Wait." She whispered in a muffled voice.
"Tell me why, Katniss." His voice came out huskier. "Tell me and I'll stop."
Placing her wrists at the sides of her shoulders, Cato didn't wait and buried his nose at the crook of her neck. His chest pressed closely against hers, feeling the beating of their hearts clashing in different but accelerated rhythms as he inhaled the scent that was so distinctly Katniss. Wet kisses graced the exposed flesh calling to him and his mouth couldn't help but obsess on the area on her throat. The thrumming of her moans vibrated to his lips and never had it left a taste of so much gratification that he could make her enjoy this. Following the trail of soft skin, he nipped on the sides of her neck with gentle bites and more wet kisses.
Whatever she was inaudibly muttering was drowned out in a haze of mewls and noises which he can describe can only come from kittens.
Pressing more weight onto her, he loosened his grip on her wrists and entwined his fingers with her own. Changing his course, his mouth made his way up to the tip of her chin once again and traced the slight curve that formed at the bottom of her face. Feminine lips were quivering at the feather light sensations bombarding her face and neck. Cato blew on her closed mouth at a tempting distance as he felt every movement beneath him—every time she squirmed, arched her back, or thrust her hips—and the nether regions of his body were in pain. So much, that as her hips jerked against his groin, he groaned uninhibitedly into her ear.
The sound must have knocked her back into reality because with a loud intake of breath and a sigh, he watched her look up from underneath her lashes and struggle to speak. "M-my score."
Her score? His forehead wrinkled in perplexity.
"My score." She repeated her answer to his question.
Shrugging with disappointment and slight embarrassment from losing all trace of the conversation before their heated exchange. Cato crouched over her—relieving her of his heavy weight and grip. Extracting his body from hers was excruciating; but with a grin, he looked on with fascination at her flushed cheeks and the little kiss marks on her neck that were going to be difficult to hide as the evidence of this tryst. Forcefully, he mentally shook himself to focus and fix the misunderstanding between them. And in all seriousness, he looked directly into her eyes.
"Katniss, I'm not a kid." He said as a matter-of fact. "I'm not going to hurt you over that."
Now the one crossing her arms, Katniss had doubt written all over her face. "Then, what was with the drowning scheme? Why did you bring me here?"
Cato let out a frustrated huff. Blood shot up on his face as tried not to stutter. "Stupid, I wasn't trying to kill you. I was trying to tease you. And, this is a date—the date that Baker Boy suggested."
It rattled him how difficult the words came out. At this point in the night, he would've expected a longer version of what transpired a moment ago and maybe even more, but the turn of events and her paranoia had changed all his plans. Not that it hasn't happened since they got here in the Capitol, but some predictability in this relationship-arrangement thing might be good considering in two days, they will be in the games. He did expect; however, a sliver of trust from the girl he saved—but he knew she was too smart and clever to even consider that.
But, last night was different. Way different.
The rise and fall of her breath disguised any sort of apprehension from what he had just said. Rolling off to his side, Cato pulled Katniss to sit at the edge of the bed. She was still hesitant and pulling away, though, even if she denies it, she was very responsive to his kisses and his touch. Never had he felt his jeans more constraining than it did now. Both of them were still drenched from the pool, and now they were covered by a thin layer of sweat from their activity. His pants were itching with discomfort as it became tighter upon witnessing the damp fabric of her dress accentuating her smaller form yet covering nothing as titillation was evidenced in the hardened peaks protruding on her chest.
"So, what are you trying to do now?" She whipped her head to face him.
Chuckling to the sight of her dazed and lost, his mouth descended on the pulse point beneath her ear. "Seducing you to join me in the pack."
His hands had a mind of his own and pulled her close. The immediate impulse as their chests rubbed once more was to kiss his way to the line of her jaw teasingly. A slight shiver tingled on his spine as her body uncontrollably leaned in to his warmth. He knew that her mind would strongly oppose the stirrings that moved her body to breach her restraints, and yet, here she was. Even as her hands were placed on her shoulders to keep him at a farther distance, they were with a lack of conviction and threat. Allowing him to rest his forehead on hers, she surprised him with her curt answer.
Shaking his head in disapproval, the tips of their noses touched and Cato smiled against her lips. "I don't think you have a choice."
Before she even pounded her fists against him, yet again, his strength yanked Katniss onto his lap. Her skirt skidded all the way to her hips as she unwillingly straddled him on the bed. Dark, brown hair formed a wall around their lines of vision, their eyes anticipating the other's move. His throat became dry as his body shook in impatient anxiety. He didn't fail to notice the gray orbs widening momentarily in the speed of transition, but her face was now unreadable—cautious and unmoving. He, on the other hand, was extremely ecstatic and more than willing to break that challenging façade.
Angling himself better, he bucked his hips upward—and she fell apart.
With an outstretched neck and her head falling all the way back, he tugged her back to him and gave her a tormenting kiss. Only a peck to the lips, Cato made his lips familiar with her cheeks, her chin, and her throat once again. The skin was sweet and soft and his senses were overwhelmed in the thrill of her reluctant susceptibility with a harmony of erotic sounds rising from her chest. Katniss breathed heavily above him, with eyes still strong and rebellious. "I-I do. I have a choice."
With another short kiss on the mouth, he playfully responded.
"Not when I'll be getting your bow."
"How do you know that?"
Fingernails embedded into his skin, Katniss clawed his arms while she eased her weight away from him. Cato wasn't supposed to know—nobody was supposed to know. Yet, he was blackmailing her into joining an alliance with the Career Pack with the weapon of her choice. However way he found out, it didn't give him the right to claim wasn't even his and use it against her like her Mockingjay pin. She can't allow that to happen again. It put her in a tight spot with the most ruthless of all the Tributes; and it made Peeta all the more a target. It was a death sentence to them both. No one will be able to protect him—not if she's with Cato.
The Career Pack are called a 'pack' for a reason. Districts 1, 2, and 4 are a cliquish group of formidable, heavily-sponsored and trained Tributes; and for countless of times, they won. The inhumanity of the Hunger Games becomes more disturbing when the last tributes consist of those from the pack. The lifeless and cold eyes taking the lives of others who are deemed weaker or stronger—it depends on whoever takes the challenge of the situation. If Cato did arrange for her to be there and at the same time leave her defenseless by withholding the only thing she can defend herself with, she will be the first to get killed.
The boy winced at the contact but merely let his hands fall sluggishly at her hips, motionless despite the shift in weight. Red stripes marred his marble-like skin, miniscule spots of blood in striking contrast to his coloring. Sitting back comfortably, he gave her a devilish grin and simply responded to her inquiry. "Your mentor. He slipped when I gave him a bottle of rum." Cato paused, waiting for her reaction but ended up eyeing her lips. "And in case you're gonna ask, I didn't pry. It was drunken word vomit."
Haymitch. Her knuckles turned bone white. "I don't believe you. He wouldn't do that."
Katniss trusted Haymitch with her life though he never seems to have a regard for it. Her mentor may be intoxicated ninety-nine percent of the time, but he would never rat them out. Seething with fury, her fists aggressively pounced on his shoulders. Katniss didn't care where she hit him, now that she had more of an advantage in terms of position. Peering down, she battered his chest, his collarbone, his arms—all in his inability to block every punch that landed on his ripped body. Each blow was an outburst frustration. He deserves this.
"Shit, Katniss! Calm the fuck down."Cato shouted out but didn't attempt to fight back. "Hear me out!"
For once, he seemed at a loss how to handle the situation. Katniss watched him battle inwardly as she ignored his words. As best as he could, he tried to cool her head simply by avoiding any physical retaliation and losing his voice in trying to make her listen, but it only fueled her rage. Cheeks reddening in open intolerance, it was only when she saw him shake his head like he's had enough did she recognize a renewed determination. Shielding himself from one of her strikes, he caught one wrist and pulled her harshly back down to his lap.
And it was enough for her to cease all movement.
"Relax." He murmured, quickly kissing her neck.
The sudden weight of her hips on his crotch startled her as she felt the twitch of something firm and lengthy pressing against her thinly protected womanhood. Slipping almost perfectly down to his waist, his overheated skin tickled the delicate area in between her thighs—the coarse fabric of his jeans unabashedly brushing her, creating a jolt of sensations sizzling towards her core. Warmth poured forth at the point in which they were attached to one another, and she struggled for coherence at the overpowering heat from the startling contact.
With a sudden jerk of his hips, Katniss screamed.
Eyes rounded and mouth agape, she buried crimson crescents on his shoulders, feeling the bulge rub viciously the bundle of nerves that lay accessible with her legs widely apart. Cato watched her with a suppressed desire burning in the freezing blue shade of his irises and it made her feel all the more exposed. For a moment they had looked mesmerizing, alluring, and consuming—but, it frightened her all the more. There was something building from within, from the depths of her being. She had experienced it once, and now, she will be experiencing it again—arriving at that peak with Cato. And in his gaze, she knew, he was feeling it too.
Somewhere in between her sharp intakes of breath and mewls, a muscular arm caught both of hers behind her back and flopped her hastily to the bed. He climbed over the stationary form, hovering completely above Katniss, until he deliberately found his way to her mouth once again. His kisses were like petals against her lips and her skin—still teasing and yet all playfulness was gone. There was so much heat permeating through their wet skin and damp clothes and it made her stop thinking. She just felt—his hair as her fingers roamed through the blonde mane, his tongue as it dove into her mouth, and his touch as it grabbed every inch of her bare skin. With both hands, Cato lifted her hips easily and crossed her legs around his waist. And almost frantically, he began to thrust.
Moans, grunts, groans filled the room as they lay with entangled limbs, moving with purpose towards their release. His body pulsated with unbridled desire, stroking with precision her overly sensitized clit. Each jarring push shot electricity between her legs, and every time, she felt a shudder of pleasure running through his vascular body. Obscenely gyrating his hips, Cato hit her pearl again and again as he jerked his lower body in evident need. Her nails raked his back with bloody trails—clinging herself to him as Katniss felt she was losing her mind.
The boy above her had difficulty finding his breath, beads of sweat covering his skin and his movements in concentration to finish them both. Squeezing her butt, Cato shoved her hips to meet his thrusts and the undeniable proximity towards satisfaction was apparent. She was on fire—and so was he.
The intensity of the sensations wracked her body when her core spasmed at its peak. Tremors unleashed themselves as Cato moved against her still shivering form. With frenzied thrusts, a distinctly masculine, guttural sound vibrated from his throat and she knew, he had reached his breaking point. His form shook at his release, hands still clenching her tight beneath him, and his eyes shut at the aftershocks of his climax. It was a toe-curling sight as he lay breathless over her, his power and size becoming a heaping mess because of her and what they did.
Katniss gazed upon him finding her stare fixedly, and, licking his lips, his mouth descended on hers once again. It seemed that all her questions and her anger was gone save for the few words that managed to find its way at the back of her throat. "Cato, we need to talk."
Piercing blue eyes conveyed a silenced promise, but he whispered breathily. "Tomorrow."
Lips molding together in sync—fully satisfied and void of any memory but that of the pleasure that still throbbed with excitement. It was a lazy kiss, but it ignited her all the same. Any sense of urgency was diminished and only the moans of gratification of feeling the comfortable warmth pressing and rubbing against one another. Arms locked around his neck, her lips were left swollen in his insistent need for more as he bit and sucked the pink petals with gentle bites.
It gnawed at the recesses of her mind that this should be wrong—that this is wrong. But, nothing felt that way—it was the opposite.
Her head was in a haze, still registering every sensation even though her body was tired. Time flew as he ravished her mouth; but with a kiss of finality to her forehead, Katniss fell asleep.
I didn't know how I wrote this but I did. I had to stop several times just coz I thought I didn't know what I was doing. I hope it turned out alright.