His hands ghosted over her shoulders, taking the straps of the camisole she wore with them as they slid slowly down her arms. She could feel his hot breath against her neck and it made goosebumps rise, her nipples tightening into hard little nubs. "You're so amazingly beautiful," he whispered against her skin.

She shivered, turning her head, her breath escaping on a soft sigh. His hand cupped her jaw, thumb rubbing lightly over the sensitive skin. Their mouths met in a hot, wet kiss that left her breathless with need. She felt his hips rock against her, the hard length of his cock pressing tightly against the cleft of her ass, left nearly bare by the dark green lace of the thong she wore. The soft lace rubbed against her clit with every shift of his hips, heat seeping along her veins, licking fire in its wake.

"Need you," she gasped, breaking free of the scorching kiss, lifting her hand above her head and winding it into the thick, blonde curls at his nape. "So much."

His hand splayed against her hip, holding her firmly against his body, thumb teasing at the elastic of her thong. "Not yet," he whispered against her neck, biting lightly at her leaping pulsepoint. "Want to tease you some more."

"Please." The word was ragged and soft and filled with every ounce of desire that filled her at his touch. She felt him grin against her skin and it made her angry, her nails digging into his forearm. He bit down harder and she moaned, his fingers dipping into the soft lace to press lightly against the soft brush of curls that shielded her pussy. His long fingers dipped into her, running along the seam, spreading the slippery liquid that seeped in a steady flow. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into her slick entrance, thumb grazing against the tiny bud of her clit, leaving her shuddering and breathless. Curling his fingers, he fucked her slowly, rocking his hips into her with every stroke.

It was too much and not enough, every stroke of his fingers ratcheting up the tight coil of tension in her core. His free hand found her breast, pulling and twisting the tight nub of her nipple until she was writhing and gasping against him, bucking her hips back into his, mewling helplessly as a heady miasma of pleasure and need consumed her. Flinging her head back, she came hot and hard, clenching around his fingers, nails digging into his forearm.

Aftershocks of bliss coursed through her as she hung, limp and spent - her knees weak and refusing to hold her weight. He pivoted, pushing her hungrily to the bed, stripping off the soaked bit of lace that hid her from his eyes. She stared up at him languidly, her tongue sliding along dry lips as he stripped out of the only remaining barrier, kicking the tight boxer briefs aside before joining her on the bed. Palming her thigh, he lifted it high and entered her with a deep, heavy thrust, jerking her back up the bed with the force of it.

He pushed hard and fast, pulling out almost to the point of exit and then thrusting hard back in, each stroke dragging the head of his cock against her clit. She keened long and low, nails digging into whatever she could reach – his broad shoulders, skimming across the flat nipples, standing at attention between the thick curls of coarse hair on his chest, the solid thickness of his wrist. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she bowed upwards, meeting him stroke for satisfying stroke.

"Say my name," he grunted, lifting her ass and holding her up off the bed so that only her shoulders rested on the mattress.

A wicked grin curved her lips and she licked her lips again. "Peeta," she purred, rolling her hips against him.

He groaned and dipped his head, pulling one tight nipple into the dense heat of his mouth, flicking it with his tongue before biting down on it and tugging. Her head dropped back, mouth opening soundlessly as pleasure screamed through her with every sensual tug and pull on her body.

Licking his way across her chest, he gave the other the same treatment, wincing as her nails dug into his shoulders, digging furrows down his back. "Who do you belong to?" he growled against her skin, licking a heated trail down her stomach, reaching between them to flick his long fingers against her clit as he pounded into her, deeper and harder with each snap and roll of his hips.

"You," she gasped, bliss spiraling through her. Color burst behind her closed eyelids, every nerve ending screaming as the all consuming wave crested and broke, dragging her under its seductive pull. "Always you!"

"Fuck yes," he grunted, hips rising and falling against hers in an endless roll that dragged her deeper into the depths. She came again as he collapsed against her, his back heaving as he fought for breath, forehead pressed tightly to her chest.

Her phone buzzed once and then began playing an overly cheery tone. His head shot up, meeting her wide eyed gaze and he cursed long and low as she struggled to extricate herself from his embrace. He collapsed back onto the bed as she snatched up the phone and answered it, angling her body so that her face was hidden.

"Hello?"

His stomach clenched and he cursed lowly. She spun around, wide eyes pleading as she spoke softly into the phone. "No, it was just the TV, some cop show. Yes, I'll pick up the dry-cleaning once I'm done at the store. Okay, no it's fine, really. Bye." She pressed end and closed her eyes, sitting down heavily in the chair that anchored the corner of the room. "Shit," she breathed, burying her face in her hands.

"I hate this," he said tightly, leaning up on his elbows to stare at her.

She lifted her head slowly, her expression bleak. "No more than I do."

Peeta pushed himself up to a sitting position, staring at her intently. "It fucking kills me that he touches you."

Katniss inhaled sharply, her hands clenching on the arms of the chair. "No one touches me the way you do," she said softly.

He jerked up off the bed, stalking around the room, gathering his clothing. Sticking his legs into his boxers, he jerked them up and over his hips. "You belong to him," he snarled.

She rose from the chair, covering the distance between them with three steps, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist as she pressed her face to his chest. "I belong to you!" She breathed against his skin. Tilting her face up, she cupped his chin, tugging on it so he looked at her once more. "You own me body and soul, Peeta. You always have," she implored.

"But it's his name you carry," he snapped, pulling free from her embrace, leaving her standing there feeling naked and exposed, her heart clenching. He wrenched on his shirt, sloppily fastening the buttons before thrusting his feet into his pants, pulling them up and fastening them. His eyes met hers once more and she wanted to die at the pain reflected in them. "And it slays me."

Katniss bent down, reaching for her shirt, or anything to cover her nakedness. Pain ripped through her and she blinked rapidly, fighting against the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, her questing fingers found the silken material of her shirt and she dragged it closer, slipping it on quickly. Rising to her feet, she walked woodenly to where her skirt was tossed over the dresser, stepping into it and forcing her numb fingers to work the catch to keep it from sliding back down her hips.

Strong fingers closed over hers and she gasped, raising her head to meet Peeta's gaze. She took a ragged breath. "Do you…" her voice sounded thick, like she'd been sick for a week and was just barely regaining it. "Do you want to stop?" Desperation crept into her tone and she bit her lip, hands shaking beneath his.

"No." The word was soft and hard, exquisitely sharp and filled with weariness and pain and it compressed her heart tightly in its rough fist and squeezed until she thought she'd die. His hand rose, ghosting over the soft swell of her cheek. "I need you like I need air, Katniss." His voice, wild and low had her body tightening with the overpowering need from earlier. Relief and desire warred equally within her and as he crushed her to his chest, she let the tears she'd been holding back fall freely, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

Her phone beeped again, making her jump. She pushed free and grabbed for it, knocking it off the table and onto the floor. Dropping to her knees, she scrabbled against the carpet, eyes closing in relief as she saw it was just the alarm and not another call. Standing up, she tucked her shirt into the band of her skirt, lifting her gaze to find him staring at her, the tiny green scrap of her lacy thong in his fist. Her stomach roiled as he balled it up and stuck it in his pocket. He turned away and bent down for his shoes, taking them to the edge of the bed and sitting down on it to put them on. His long, nimble fingers made short work of the laces and she watched greedily, remembering the feel of them on her body.

"Stop looking at me like that or I'll never let you leave," he rasped, double knotting the lace.

"How do you know I'm looking at you?"

"I can feel your eyes on me and it makes me want to throw you back on this bed and fuck you so that you'll never leave me again."

Damp heat gathered between her naked thighs and she spun around, searching for her shoes. "You don't have to fuck me to make me feel that way," she said softly, slipping her feet into the tall heels that he insisted she wear, the man whose money bought her body and had kept her sister from starving. "I never want to leave you," she continued, her voice thready. "I wish you understood that."

He was behind her instantly, hard angles against the softer curves of her body, one hand splayed across her stomach, the other turning her chin to look at him. "I do understand it," he said lowly. "I just don't fucking like it." His eyes locked with hers. "Leave him."

She inhaled a ragged breath. "You know I can't."

"You can. We can leave; go somewhere he'd never find us. Prim could come too-"

Her fingers pressed against his lips, cutting off his words. "Stop. You know we can't."

He pressed his forehead against hers. "Stay."

She kissed him, pouring every ounce of love she felt for him into it. Melting into his embrace, she let herself for one moment hold onto the dream that lived in her heart, that they could be together and free. Breaking away, she bit her lip and forced herself to move out of his arms, gathering her phone and her purse before walking to the door. "I'm sorry," she whispered before pulling it open and stepping outside. As it closed behind her, she stoically plastered on the bland mask she'd perfected as Katherine Crane, the wife of Senator Seneca Crane, walking to her Jaguar XKR and sliding behind the wheel, leaving Katniss Everdeen and her heart behind her in the hotel room with the only man she'd ever loved.