(I) A Thief in the Night

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Peeta awoke to his name being whispered into the night. You'd stayed the night with him so he was well aware it could just be you having a nightmare. But...the second time you whispered it into his neck, he felt the pressure against his waist.

"Peeta"

You'd practically molded your body against his side. Your face stay tucked into his neck, somewhere he realized you loved to smell one day in the bakery, though you'd tried to hide it claiming it was the melted butter in his hands. You'd thrown your right leg across his waist, having pushed his shirt up a few inches exposing his thin golden happy trail, your right arm threaded in the front of his shirt, unwilling to let him leave your side.

It was where you had his right arm pinned between the two of you that was the true concern here.

He was already taller than you so it wasn't hard for you to curl into him so that his hands rested below your waist. His right hand was clasped beneath yours, buried in your panties and rubbing against your slick folds. You grinded against his fingers, panting into his neck wantonly as your hips rocked back and forth. Peeta's dick jumped in response.

Shit.

"Peeta please", you breathed suckling at the skin of his neck in a limerick that could ask for the moon and he'd deliver.

When Peeta tried to recoil his fingers you whine in protest, shifting your hips down so that his middle finger slides deep within you up to his middle knuckle. Peeta was frozen in place unable to formulate a proper thought. Oh he'd always wanted to explore your body but he never anticipated you dreaming of it as well.

"Your hands", you croon rocking your hips faster, your walls tightening around the thick digit, signaling an oncoming release as you shift and sink down onto his ring finger as well. Peeta could only think about how tight and soaked you were around him. Is this why you always stared at his hands? "Oh"

Holy shit. He had to wake you up now. Peeta's left hand was still free and he used it to gently shake you awake at your shoulder. You were sleeping so deeply, something you only were capable of doing when he lay beside you. It took calling your name loudly to finally rouse you from your salacious dreaming.

Why was Peeta looking at you with such concern? You blinked a few times, adjusting your hip only to realize you'd been practically straddling him, his hand trapped under yours. You'd been unconsciously forcing him to make you feel good, as if the wetness on the seat of her panties could be anything but pleasure. You began to look around for some sort of escape but Peeta didn't expect this reaction.

He needed to fix this now. It was ok! Oh, sweet love, it was more than alright! He just needed you conscious and looking him in his eyes if you were going to be greedily moaning for him. You two had never been intimate like this before. He needed every moment ingrained in your brain if you were going to have your firsts together. He reached for your cheek but you flinch back, breath quickening.

Peeta calls your name softly needing you know everything is ok but you can't seem to look at him. 

Survivor's RemorseWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu