A/N: Okay guys, this is a very naughty/extremely smutty one shot that deals with the idea of Katniss being submissive in the bedroom. I know there have been other authors to explore this concept, but I wanted to have my own go at writing it. That being said, I realize this is also at a VERY high risk of being taken down so I am posting all my work over at my Tumblr (where I posted this update much earlier today) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE go follow me at "love is all we really need to survive" (remove spaces) and then put in dot-tumblr-dot-c0m. Enjoy and review!
We don't always make love this way.
Sometimes it's gentle and slow and solely about showing our love and commitment to one another. But sometimes, like on nights like this, I need it this way. Or he does. Or we both do. It doesn't really matter who starts it because we are both more than willing to play along. It has become an integral part of our relationship. It gives us a different kind of release. It lets us step outside ourselves and just forget everything else for a while.
For me, it lets me put my guard down. It makes me stop worrying so much and stop trying to be in control all the time. I just let go and give myself over to my husband, fully and completely.
I think it's good for him too. It lets him get rid of any tension he may be holding on to. He has always been the patient and quiet and understanding one. This gives him a chance to assert himself, to get what he wants, to not worry about anything other than his needs, his desires
I love pleasing him like this. It thrills me to succumb to him. I never thought it would. I have been stubborn and controlling my whole life, but this is different. I love letting my husband be in control. I love him dominating me and making it completely clear that I am his to do with as he wishes.
We haven't spoken a word about it since we left the dinner, but it's already pretty much been made clear things would go this way tonight.
The "District 12 Moving Forward Dinner" is held at the newly reconstructed city hall. Every important figure from the District and the Capitol is in attendance. They are celebrating how far District 12 has come in the 8 years since the war ended. The population is growing, the Town is more developed than ever before, and the factory to make medicine has become one of the most important contributors to Panem's rebirth.
I've been dreading this night for weeks. It is Peeta and I's first public appearance since getting married. The news spread to the capitol when we filed the official documents at the justice hall after our toasting. We knew the gossip and attention and requests for interviews would come, but I didn't want that to stop us from living our lives. I wanted to make if official too. The toasting had been private and special and intimate, but I wanted something concrete, something that bound us together always.
We warded off the attention as best we could, adamantly refusing interviews and turning away cameras that showed up at our door. After years of having our relationship unfold in the public eye we were determined to keep this to ourselves, to enjoy the beginning of our marriage without any prying eyes. We did good too, able to enjoy a couple of years of newlywed bliss without broadcasting our private lives to the whole world.
But now, a few years later, we have finally decided to come out of hiding.
We've only associated ourselves with the Capitol and the new government a handful of times since the war ended. And every time has always been about remembering the lives lost during the war or honoring the fallen children from 75 years of the Hunger Games. Tonight, as both a fundraiser for the district's school and a celebration of the memorials starting to be built on sites of former arenas, we chose to come out of hiding.
I am in a floor length gown, a ruby red, satin number with a deep v-neck that Effie sent from the Capitol a few days ago. Peeta is in a customary tux. I cling to his arm as we move about the large formal dining room on the top floor of city hall. Out on the terrace there is a beautiful view of the entire district, twinkling lights in the midnight sky and the deep, impenetrable darkness of the woods in the distance.
At any event involving the Capitol I am always on edge. I look around and expect every eye to be glued to me, muttering behind my back, whispering about the deranged Mockingjay. It takes me a while to collect myself and realize I am just being overly paranoid, most people are too caught up and excited at the idea of being at such an exclusive event to pay me any attention.
Peeta must sense my nerves because he slips an arm around my waist and whispers reassuring words in my ear. I take a deep breath and smile, feeling myself relax. This isn't as bad as I expected. I can do this.
We spend most of the time before dinner talking to Haymitch in the corner as he sips on his glass of whiskey. It's funny, he lives next door to us, we see him everyday, and yet he's still the only one we want to talk to at an event like this.
We see other familiar faces too. Beetee explaining the newest technology he is developing to locate and disarm any old Capitol weapons that still hide in the countryside or within the districts. Annie sharing the similarities her son has with Finnick, the joy he brings her overweighing everything else. Plutarch dropping not-so-subtle hints about a 'catch up special' he would love to do on us. Johanna introducing us to her new boyfriend. Paylor asking for a picture with us for the media and then apologizing for it.
Even at dinner Effie chastises me for not using the correct fork to eat my salad as if the last time I spoke with her hasn't been several years ago. When the meal is nearly over I'm full and actually starting to be glad we came.
"I need to go freshen up," I whisper in Peeta's ear and he nods as I leave the table.
I make my way through the halls of the building in search of a bathroom. I never drink so I feel a little lightheaded from the one glass of champagne I had, but nothing too unsteady.
In the bathroom I check my reflection in the mirror. It feels strange to see myself all dressed up like this again. I spend all my time in hunting gear or regular clothes when I help Peeta out at the bakery.
It reminds me of interviews with Caesar Flickerman and the Victory Tour. I shake my head to clear it of those bad thoughts.
On my way back to the dinner table I have my head down and I run into a large body, easily a foot taller than me.
"Oh sorry," I mumble and then look up into a pair of grey eyes.
"Katniss...Hi," Gale returns, looking at me in shock.
I haven't spoken to or seen Gale since the war ended.
After a while it just started to not feel very important whether I ever saw him again.
"Hi," I stutter, clutching my hand bag.
I take note that his presence doesn't really make me feel anything, not sad or angry or happy or wistful.
"How are you?" He mumbles, not making eye contact.
I cringe at how uncomfortable this situation is. It makes the days when we were hunting partners, when we depended on each other for survival, seem like ages ago.
"I'm great," I mumble nervously, itching to escape back to the table.
"Good..." he trails off, and then from over his shoulder I see Peeta approaching the pair of us.
"Gale...hey, how are you?" Peeta asks and they shake hands.
I breathe a sigh of relief and smile as he comes to stand near me. I reach out and take his hand, feeling instantly more at ease.
"Not bad," Gale shrugs, and I see his eyes dart to our joined hands. "Work keeps me busy."
I nod awkwardly, unsure of what else there is to say. He is just not the same person he once was to me. And I'm glad. Peeta is that person now. He's that and so much more.
Luckily we're interrupted when someone down the hall calls out for Gale.
"I got to go," he says, looking as relieved as I feel to end this conversation, "it was good seeing you guys."
He disappears down the hall in the opposite direction and I turn to Peeta. He leans in and places a kiss right below my ear, right where he knows I like it. "It was lonely at the table," he explains, "I wanted to come find you."
"I'm glad," I smile, placing a kiss on his cheek.
We turn and head back to the table together. He's quiet and I wonder what he's thinking. We've barely talked about Gale since the war ended. He has come up in conversation once or twice, but for me it just never seemed like a topic that needed much discussion. I thought it was pretty clear who my heart has always belonged to when we ended up together.
He holds out my chair for me as we take our seats just as dessert is being served.
After a few moments of silence I reach over and take his hand in mine. I rub the back of his hand with my thumb gently for a few moments, bringing him back to me, reminding him of what is his.
I can see him visibly relax. He takes a deep breath and looks over at me, offering me a small smile.
After dessert is finished he puts his arm around my chair and leans over to me.
"Seeing you in that dress is doing things to me," he whispers and I melt at his words.
I crave his touch right now. Maybe it was just seeing Gale, maybe it's being at one of these events that always brings back hard memories, but right now I just need him. I need him to do things to me I know only he can.
I tug on his tie, pulling him closer to me. I wrap it around my wrist, biting my lip. I kiss him deeply and then pull away breathless.
"Maybe you can do things to me when we get home," I say so quietly only he can hear it.
He shifts in his seat and I know he is getting hard.
"Oh yeah, what kind of things?" He replies and when we lock eyes I can see the wheels turning in his head. I start to get hot just imagining all the possibilities of when we get home and he takes control.
"I think you know..." I respond coyly and he grins crookedly.
"Yeah, I do," he returns as he reaches down and places a hand on my knee.
I squirm in my seat and I suddenly can't get home fast enough.
We enter the darkness of our house in silence. I lead the way upstairs, making my excitement and intentions clear. Peeta follows me and when we walk into our bedroom he closes the door behind us and then turns to face me.
His eyes darken as he steps towards me and I am already wet for him.
"Turn around," he murmurs and I obey.
He unzips the back of my gown. He pulls it off my shoulders and then lets it fall to the floor. I turn back to face him dressed in only my bra and underwear.
"Take off your bra," he instructs again and I reach behind me to unclasp the straps. I let the straps fall from my shoulders and then toss the garment aside, hands on my hips, exposing myself to him, waiting for whatever is next.
He steps towards me and removes his tie. Then he starts to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt until it too joins the pile of clothes on the floor.
"Come here," he says, locking eyes with me. I take a tentative step forward and he grabs my hands and places them on the waistband of his pants. I take his silent instructions and begin to undo his belt buckle before lowering his zipper. I tug his pants past his hips until he is left standing in only his boxers.
He steps out of his pants and then gently pushes me back so I am sitting on the edge of the bed. He drops to his knees on the floor and moves himself between my legs, spreading them apart.
"Are you going to do what I say tonight?" He asks, his voice rough, powerful.
"Yes," I respond meekly.
I know the rules. We've done this before. I am his to do with as he wishes. I only talk when he tells me to. I give myself over to him completely and he pleasures me in the way only he can.
He reaches down and retrieves the silk tie he wore to dinner from the floor. He brings my hands together and then ties two knots around them so tight I couldn't break free even if I wanted to. He pushes my hands above my head and instructs me to lean back
He reaches out and takes my breasts in each of his hands, softly kneading the flesh as he starts to plant kisses down my body. He starts at my chest and makes a trail down my stomach until he reaches the edge of my panties. His lips are hot and his kisses are wet and I am already grinding my hips in search of his touch.
He uses his fingers to gently tug at my nipples and then leans down and takes my breast in his mouth. I groan in delight and wrap my legs around him. He uses his teeth to lightly tug at my nipple and my underwear is now soaked through.
One of his hands leave my breasts and he reaches down to stroke me over my underwear. I whimper and push myself against him. The friction of the material against my sensitive part leaves me writhing in need for him.
He slips a finger past my panties and pushes inside me.
"You're so wet for me," he breathes as I cry out at the feel of him curling his finger, before he quickly pulls away.
"Open your mouth," he commands and when I do he pushes the finger he just used to touch me past my lips so I can lick the taste of myself off of him.
He pulls my underwear down my legs like he is in a hurry, immediately returning to my center where he trails his tongue up the length of my folds until he hits my clit. I scream as he sucks on the tiny nub.
He is expertly skilled in the art of making me lose control with his mouth. He licks me in earnest, like he could never tire of my taste. I want to run my hands through his hair but I'm still restrained. I thrust my hips towards him and rest my legs on his shoulders, clenching my thighs and letting him know how good this feels.
Having my hands tied, not being able to touch him, having no control over the situation, is equal parts frustrating and erotic. I want my hands free, but I love knowing I am restrained for him, that I am tied up for my husband's pleasure. I can only grind my hips against him in response to what he is doing, letting him know that I want more, that I need more.
"I want to hear you scream my name," He says as his hands roughly grab a hold of my hips to keep me in place. His tongue laps at my wetness and I scream again, squirming on the bed, overcome with sensation. His thumb circles my clit with the perfect pressure and pace and I moan in ecstasy.
"Say my name, Katniss," He tells me, before his tongue and two of his fingers find their way inside me.
"Peeta..." I whimper, feeling everything inside me start to tighten, "oh Peeta...fuck," I say, feeling myself losing control.
"Again," He grunts, pumping three fingers inside me.
"PEETA!" I scream over and over again as my hips thrust back against his hand in an endless motion. I'm not even aware of my own voice screaming my husband's name in ecstasy, only the mind blowing sensations he is causing.
Just as I am ready to explode though he pulls away. His tongue and fingers leave me and I am panting and aching for his touch. I throw my head back in agony and thrust my hips towards him, pleading for him to finish me.
"I want you to beg for it," he says as he starts planting open mouthed kisses along my thighs and across my pubic bone, dangerously close to the place that is throbbing from desire.
"Touch me," I whimper, knowing I am so close to that final release. "Please..." I groan, moving my hips in a circular motion, searching for his touch, searching for anything that will relieve this ache. Now I know why he wanted my hands tied. I would have finished the job myself by now if I could.
He just continues planting torturously soft and slow kisses around the place I need him to touch the most. I cry out in frustration.
"Fuck Peeta!" I practically scream, wrapping my legs around his head, pulling him to my wetness and keeping him in place. "Make me come," I growl, knowing he has the power to make me see stars and that he is delaying it.
I think I hear him chuckle but I'm not sure because all I can focus on is the feel of his tongue, the pressure of it against my clit and how my entire world is suddenly ready to come undone. I am already so close and everything is so much more intense after having to wait for it. I arch my back and feel my entire body tighten.
Finally, I clench around him and my body spasms uncontrollably, waves of pleasure rolling through me. I'm sweaty and breathless and trembling, but I know that this is not nearly the end of it for tonight.
When I've barely calmed down from my first orgasm he stands up and sheds his boxers. He flips me over on the bed so I'm lying on my stomach and then pulls my hips back up towards him so I'm on my knees. With my hands still tied I lean on my forearms, still trying to recover.
He leans over me, his bad leg propped on the bed and the other still standing by the edge. He slowly slides himself inside me. I groan and he slaps my backside. I jump, but not from pain. He barely hit me hard enough to sting my skin, but it was enough to excite me.
"I'm going to make you come again and then you're going to suck me off," he pants as he pulls out of me and then pushes back in. "Do you understand?"
"Yes,'" I whisper, pushing myself back against him.
He reaches out and grabs my hair, pulling it just hard enough so my head is tilted back in his direction. Everything feels so much more intense when he gets like this. When he takes charge and gets a little rough I am completely at his mercy.
"You like it hard and fast, don't you?" He breathes, thrusting into me as he picks up speed. Every pump of his hips makes me cry out in pleasure. He is pushing me to the brink and I am ready to fall off that ledge again.
"Yes," I whimper as he pounds harder, ready to send us both into oblivion.
He is still holding onto my hair, tugging on it just hard enough so it send waves of pleasure through the rest of my body. My walls start to clench around him and the carnal sounds he is making lets me know he is just as close.
His pace is frantic now and a moment later we reach that ultimate release together. I shatter into a million pieces and cry out in ecstasy for the second time, feeling my body sing with pleasure. He groans and empties himself inside me.
We just lay in silence for a while after he collapses next to me on the bed. He reaches over and undoes the tie from my hands, releasing me. We let our breathing return to normal and allow ourselves a chance to recover before going at it again.
There is something other worldly when we go at it like this. There is the feeling we could do this all night, the feeling that our love and desire for each other could fuel our passion for as long as we chose to.
There is nothing more powerful and thrilling than knowing I am pleasing my husband like this, that we are making each other lose control in our love making. That by the simple act of giving up my control, we are both experiencing such mind blowing pleasure.
He stands up from the bed and walks around to my side. He pulls me to my feet to stand with him and joins our lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. I pull away and see the spark in his eye. I have to work not to smile at him, knowing we are still playing our roles. But I know that this is his way of telling me how much he loves me, how much he loves this.
"Get on your knees," he says and I immediately drop to the floor in front of him, seeing that he is already hard for me again.
"Hands behind your back," he orders and then gathers my hair in a ponytail and holds it away from my face. With his other hand he takes his cock and guides it into my waiting mouth.
I use my tongue to tease his tip like I know he likes. I suck on his hardness, taking him deeper into my mouth. I make my mouth as wet and as tight as I can until his hips start jerking towards me. His hands go to my head and he groans in a way that I know he is resisting the urge to push himself deeper into my mouth.
I pull back, releasing him from my mouth as I suck every ounce of moisture off of him. I take him in my mouth again and bob my head up and down his length, begging him to come. His hand tightens in my hair and his whole body tenses as he finds his release.
I swallow and he releases my hair. After a moment he steps back and helps me to my feet. He pulls me into his arms and just holds me, breathing hard. I rub his back gently, happy I could pleasure him the way he did for me.
After a while he lifts his mouth to my ear and whispers, "I'm not done with you yet."
I have to bite back the grin I feel forming and try to keep a straight face.
He lays me down on the bed so I am on my back gazing up at him. He hovers over me as he pushes my legs a part. He leans down and kisses me deeply and between him getting rough and talking dirty it feels good to have a moment of real connection.
He runs a hand up my folds, slipping a finger in to check if I'm ready again.
He slides into me slowly and we moan in unison. I wrap my legs around his waist, taking him in deeper. He goes painfully slow, pulling back and pushing in, making me whimper for more.
"Talk to me," he commands, as our hips find that perfect rhythm, "tell me how you like it."
I groan, not sure if I'm capable of coherent speech at this moment. I know he likes this though, when I express how much I love us together. I am sure it is because of how closed off and uncommunicative I was for so long at the beginning of our relationship.
"You're so big," I groan as he starts to thrust harder, "I love having you inside me," I say as he reaches down and rubs my clit. I moan in pleasure, but he demands I continue. "I love your dick. You fuck me so good, Peeta." I'm not even really aware of what I'm saying anymore, the words that leave me are out of my control. I can only focus on the pleasure that is racking my whole body.
"You want it all the time, don't you?" He asks and I cry out in affirmation when he starts to go faster and faster.
"You're my wife," he says, as if saying it out loud makes it more true, "Only I can do this to you," he pants, each thrust threatening to send me over the edge. "You are mine."
He is not usually this possessive when we do this and somewhere in the back of my mind I wonder if it has something to do with us having seen Gale tonight.
Every thrust gets me closer and closer to that final release and I moan and whimper in anticipation, waiting for him to make me unravel. He tilts his hips and starts hitting me at a different angle.
He reaches down and rubs my clit and I fall apart at the seams, screaming my husband's name as I collapse in pleasure. I feel him explode inside me as he lets out his own shout of ecstasy. My body is pure sensation, every nerve ending is on fire and my orgasm lasts so long it's much, much later when I'm actually capable of moving or speaking.
I realize Peeta has pulled us to the top of the bed and is holding me against his chest, running a hand over my hair and softly stroking my back. He pulls a cover over our naked bodies that have begun to tremble from our dried sweat and the after effects of our orgasms.
"I love you," he whispers in my ear, voice full of emotion, "I love you so much."
He is always sure to express how much he cares about me after we do this. As if he needs to make sure I know all the dirty talk and ordering me around was just in the moment and he is still the same gentle, caring man who has been in love with me practically all his life.
"Love you too," I mumble, feeling my eyelids grow heavy.
"Go to sleep, you must be exhausted," he comments, pulling me tighter against him.
"3 times in one night will do that to a girl," I reply, glancing up at him with a grin.
"Not bad, I know," he laughs, cupping my face in his hand. "We should try to beat that mark tomorrow."
"Looking forward to it," I return before my body shuts down and I doze off into a deep sleep, wrapped around my husband.