~2 Months Later; Wedding Day~

Peeta's P.O.V.

My Grandpa told me that, when proposing, I needed to make it special. He said that I should make the moment unforgettable, but I knew that whatever I did wouldn't be the deal breaker. I already had the most magical person by my side.

Prim told me I had to swear to not wipe my hands on my suit, but I couldn't help it. As I drag my clammy hands down the side of my pristine pants, Prim walks through the door and I quickly shove them behind my back.

"Is Katniss ready?" I ask.

"Not quite," Prim replies. "Her dress isn't easy to get into. Are you?"

"Yeah," I say. "The tailor just finished."

"You look amazing," she says. "You know, when Katniss went to your birthday party forever ago, you know, that first time?"

"I'd never forget that," I say. "Continue."

"Well, there was something inside me that told me that something awesome would happen to you two one day. She'd blush every time I said your name. I'm a genius!" She giggles as she brings her arms up and flops them down beside her.

"You guys! It's time to start!" Gale peeks his head in through the door. "Everyone's waiting." I'm so nervous. But more excited than nervous. It's like this feeling where you've been waiting for something your whole life and now all of a sudden your heart stops because you're too excited. Or it's just me.

The cathedral is packed with people. People I've known for forever and people I don't know as well. The room where I'm standing is hidden, and I take this chance to see who is here. Much to my surprise, I see Cato, Glimmer and Marvel all sitting on a bench. Katniss must have made up with them or something.

I walk down the aisle as the music plays softly, a peaceful song Katniss had determinedly requested. Gale is already waiting at the top, holding Rosie by her leash, and I bend down for a split second, allowing her to lightly lick me on the cheek. Hopefully that was for good luck.

I lose my breath almost instantly when I see Katniss in her breathtaking dress. White and flowing. Her hair is done up in a braided crown. A brown leather jacket perfectly complimenting. Wow. I never knew she could be more beautiful, but surely Cinna, her over talented tailor, and reached the top.

"Peeta Everett Mellark. Do you take Katniss Elise Everdeen to be your wife? Your one and only?"

"I do," I say. Never in a million years would I say no.

He asks the same question to Katniss, and my heart sings when she responds with "I do" even though I already knew her answer.

"You may kiss the bride." She jumped into my arms and I knew Grandpa Haymitch was right when he said she was a keeper all those years ago.

Katniss's P.O.V.

He's so perfect in every way. His touch was so soft and his kiss so gentle. I didn't want to let go, but I really had no choice.

When I said I do, I meant so much more than "yes, I'll marry you." When I said that, I made a vow to never let him go. And I don't break my promises, especially those I make to myself.

"Congratulations, Catnip." Gale walks over to me, and I can barely hear him over the noisy reception banter.

"Thanks. I'm glad you came."

"I wouldn't have missed it."

I jump as Peeta grabs my hand behind me. His hand is warm and I squeeze it gently. He pecks me in the cheek and I turn around. "Are you ready for tonight?" He asks expectantly.

"Never been readier." I smile. Tonight, we leave for Alaska. Not only do I get to enjoy alone time with the most important, but I get to go back to nature, to the place that I call home. The woods. Green landscapes.

-A few hours later-

"Bye, Katniss!" I hear Prim trying to strain her voice over the loud crowd, and I throw her a kiss, watching her jump in the air to catch it. Gale hoists her up on his shoulders and I watch her wave. I sent it right back. The greatest few days of my life are about to begin.

The airport is bustling with people and our combined luggage makes it no easier to maneuver through the crowds. A lady waits for the passengers in front of the entrance to the plane, and Peeta passes her our tickets.

"Ooh! First class!" She chimes.

"First class!?" My mouth gapes open at Peeta.

"Surprise!" He says. No wonder he never let me see the tickets.

First class is much nicer than people go about with it. Red velvet seats that adjust to your comfort. Endless hot fudge sundaes and the most refreshing hot rags. Paradise to paradise. It's like a dream above all others.

I fiddle around with some buttons they've left at my control. Knobs I can only guess what they do. I hesitantly click a button and am relieved as bumps in the back of my chair begin to move around and massage so gently I can't help the sign that escapes my lips. I could get used to this. I slip a mask over my eyes and fall into the most relaxed sleep ever, right after I grab Peeta's hand.

--------

It feels as though we had just gotten on the plane when the pilot announces we had no more than ten minutes left. Already I can feel the plane start to dip downwards. My stomach jolts and I grab tight to Peeta's hand. He looks over and smiles at me.

"Almost there," he says. "We'll get landing over with and then we'll be there."

"Tell me about it, again," I say, gritting my teeth as the plane trembles and continues to descend. I close my eyes.

"Well," Peeta starts, taking his thumb and caressing my sweaty hand. "It's in rural Alaska. It's a beautiful lodge, and we have our very own room, on the fourth floor. It's right on the edge of a national forest, so it is surrounded by trees. It's about a quarter mile away from a lake. There are mountains to the east and a small town to the west."

I close my eyes and breathe in and out, picturing the picturesque cabin that we would call home for the next few days. I can almost smell the fresh air and pine trees, reminding me of the time I spent in the woods with my father. The thought of spending time with Peeta in my favorite place brought a smile across my face.

Just then, the plane bounces once, then comes hard to the ground. I breathe a sigh of relief. We are done with the plane ride.

Peeta pushes a lock of hair out of my eyes. "We're here!" he says.

We grab out bulky luggage and slowly make our way out of the plane. The airport is much quieter than the one we boarded on. Peeta and I head over to the car-rental agency and place our order. The clerk tells us that they're getting the car ready now.

While we wait, I rest my head on Peeta's shoulder. I inhale the sweet scent of him. It calms me, but I can't get my thoughts off tonight. I know that Peeta would be gentle but it didn't stop me from being a little worried. Still, part of me longed to be closer to him and only tonight could provide that.

"Sir and madam, your car is ready," calls the clerk.

"Peeta, what did you get us?!" I exclaim, after taking in the vehicle. It was a large, red Jeep. Something you'd only find in the Capitol. He chuckles and takes my luggage, which is tossed in the back.

"We go in style," he jokes.

As soon as we ride out of the airport, I understand why he chose this place. We gaze up at the rough-hewn mountains with a sense of awe and wonder. Tall, majestic mountains surround us on all sides. The rocky gray peaks jut into the sky. Lush, white snow blankets the tops of the tallest ones. Birds call to one another and soar at free will from treetop to treetop. It truly is a beautiful place. We get to the place we are going to stay. It's a beautiful Lodge. I can't wait to spend a week away with him. We get out and Peeta takes my hand. A bellhop carries our bags.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark. We're so glad you're joining us here for your honeymoon."

Peeta nodded, but he didn't bother to move his eyes away from my face. I flushed and ducked my head, but my lips curved into a wide smile that made my chest hurt. We'd been married for all of fifteen hours, and I couldn't wait to get back to what we'd so enthusiastically engaged in following our wedding reception before hopping a quick flight to Seattle and crossing the border into Canada for their honeymoon at Juneau. We'd been in public for the past several hours, and I needed my hands on him again.

Well, technically, I had my hands on himr. I just needed them in a much more intimate manner and in places that were absolutely out of bounds in front of other people. Peeta was hot for my husband, and it was killing me to keep it in my pants.

"So, you're in room 451. There are two cards here, and your bags will be in the room shortly. There's complimentary champagne and chocolates in the room. We hope you enjoy your stay."

We murmured our thanks and practically sprinted to the elevator. Peeta pushed the button for the fourth floor, and the doors closed before anyone else could join them in the small compartment. His mouth was on mine in a nanosecond, and I was flat against the wall and desperate for his touch as he devoured me.

"I want you so much," he grunted in my ear and tugged at the lobe. "I love you, Mrs. Mellark."

"Love you, too, Mr. Mellark," I breathed and curled my fingers in his ashy blonde curls.

The elevator dinged, and Peeta scooped me into his arms. He kissed me into silence and carried me down the hall to their room. I pulled the keycards out of his pocket and let them through the door so my new husband (my husband!) could carry me across the threshold and get me into bed as quickly as possible. As the door clicked shut behind them, he lowered me to the ground and tugged my hips closer to his. He kissed me until my back bowed, and I pawed at his chest.

"Alone. Finally."

He grinned at my eagerness and tugged my shirt out of the waistband of my pants so he could get his palms on my velvety soft skin. My hands fell from his torso to his hips and then one to the bulge in his pants, something that had been semi-present since I'd kissed him on the plane a few hours ago. We both desperately needed relief, and it was almost there.

I unbuttoned the bottom part of his shirt, and he pushed into my hip. He started to back me to the bed when a sharp knock sounded on the door. Groaning with disappointment, we broke away and gestured to his tented pants.

"Can you get that? Please?" he croaked and crossed to the window where he stood with his back to the door, breathing raggedly and seriously considering escaping to the bathroom for a quick self-imposed hand job. He was that horny.

We need this. Bad.. I answered the door and got the bottle of champagne. I put the, "Do Not Disturb," sign on the door, then locked the door. I went back to Peeta.

"All alone, hon," I breathed into his shoulder.

Peeta turned, and clothes practically flew off us. When we were both naked, he lifted me and wrapped my legs around his waist. With his mouth plastered to mine, he backed me against the window and pressed me to the glass.

"People can see," I protested faintly, but he kissed me into silence.

"Four floors up, babe. Nobody's watching." When I didn't protest further, he adjusted me slightly and slid home.

My breathy moan made his cock twitch inside me, and he bucked his hips with enthusiasm. My head thudded back against the window, and he bit his bottom lip. I watched his face as he pumped into me . His eyes were closed, and his mouth fell slack. My breasts bounced each time he drove upward, and I almost lost it when I glanced down to see his dick, slick with my arousal, disappear inside me. I was pliant but an eager participant, and I knew he wasn't going to last very long.

"I love you," I whimpered when he ducked his head to suckle my nipple. My legs were shaky, but he went on banging me against the glass. Normally, an extremely private person, it took a lot for me to engage in something that even smacked of public sex. I was sure no one was watching us, but I loved that maybe someone might glance up and catch us in the act.

"Almost there," he warned, and I tugged him closer, encouraging him to let go. When he did, he shouted my name. He drove his pelvis higher in uneven, rough strokes, as he emptied into me. I was sure he babbled something nonsensical about how much he loved me and how good I was, but I didn't really pay attention to the words. His release was too good and too all-encompassing to hear anything other than the deep relief that spread through me so hard it echoed in my ears.

When he could think again, he pulled back and grimaced at the feel of his sticky skin pulling away from mine. I was flushed and pleased, but he could feel my latent tension. He always came before me, so he'd gotten pretty creative at getting me off with something other than what I jokingly called his "sex wand" until he could recover and join me for another round. They had that kind of magic. He walked on shaky legs over to the bed and pulled me down on top of him.

"Any preference?" he asked, but I shook my head.

"Anything. Don't care. Just hurry."

I leaned against the pile of pillows and planted my feet on the duvet, spreading my legs wide for him. He licked his lips at the slickness between my legs and flipped the bottle of lube open. He drizzled a thin stream onto her and rubbed his fingers through it. My back arched as I chased his hand, and he kissed the inside of my thighs and told me to be patient.

"God, yessssssssss," I hissed and melted into the mattress.

That's when he slid the tips of his fingers up and down my slit, teasing my clit, and pressing into my hole before withdrawing. When I whimpered, he notched up the ante and slid in a little bit. I pressed my shoulders down and raised my hips, and he increased the deepness. I chanted his name and tossed my head back and forth as he teased and probed and watched his wife (his wife!) fall apart inch by beautiful inch. Peeta grinned when I crested. He coaxed me through it, using his fingers to mimic what he wasn't ready for quite yet. When my body slumped, he kissed my ankle and started again.

Several more minutes and three orgasms later, and Peeta was ready to join me a second time. he crawled over her and kissed my willing mouth. He rolled us over, his back on the mattress, and arranged my limbs until I was draped over him.

"Too tired for this way?" he asked, but I shook my head. I dropped my head to his neck and lifted my hips to sink onto him. When he was sheathed by me again, we began to rock, my chest pressed against his, my lips on his neck, and his hands tugging my legs wide so I was splayed open, my hips dragging against his.

"Peeta," I panted, "Peeta, yes."

"I love you so much," he grunted as his pace quickened. "You feel so god damn amazing."

And I did. And he did. And we did it together—twice for him and five or so times for me, and it was just the second day of their marriage and one day into their honeymoon. As a couple, we were fucking winning.

"I need a shower," I groaned once we were both coherent again. "I am filthy."

"Yeah, you are," he joked and yelped when I pinched his side.

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Seemed like it to me," he answered happily and trailed his fingers down my spine to cup my ass and give it a squeeze.

I laughed softly into his chest, and he tightened his arms around me. My life hadn't been the easiest, but when I laughed in his arms, it felt like all of my past was gone. Hell, even in his presence. I just loved being happy, and I was beyond grateful I was with the help he gave to make that happen.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" he murmured into my dark hair.

"What the hell is happening in this room?"

Peeta's eyes flew open, and he glanced at the surroundings. We'd been a little too busy fucking one another to bother taking in the furnishings and decorations until just this moment. Now, we couldn't stop looking at...the absolute hideousness of it all.

"This is appalling."

"Right?" I laughed. "This is definitely not a Cinna design."

Peeta chuckled at that. Cinna was a good friend of ours and an amazing interior designer. This would make him turn over in his grave if he were dead.

"Are we—?" Peeta lifted his head and glanced at the bed. "Oh my hell. Are we on a heart-shaped bed?"

We scrambled up and looked at the furniture in horror. It was, indeed, a heart-shaped bed, and it was the sappiest, cheesiest thing either of them had ever seen. Peeta burst out laughing and pointed at a small box near the headboard that took coins in exchange for, according to the sign, "gentle vibrations that soothe and excite."

"A vibrating bed?" I gaped at him and then narrowed my eyes. "Did you bring me to a brothel for our honeymoon?"

"No!" he protested.

"A sex hotel, then?"

"Hon, all hotels are sex hotels."

"Does that make me your whore or your conquest?" I teased with a wink.

Peeta couldn't answer. He tried, but he was laughing too hard to breathe, let alone speak. He waved his hands at me helplessly and tried to form words, but it was a lost cause. He laughed until he couldn't breathe and tears streamed down his face. I joined him eventually, and he pulled my naked body into his and held me in the comforting circle of his arms.

"We can never tell Finnick about this. Or my brothers," he said soberly as he wiped moisture from the corners of his eyes. "We will never live this down if they know. It'll come up at every major event for the rest of our lives. It'll be that story they tell about us as a couple. Mum's the word. No pictures. We just can't."

I sighed against him and nodded in agreement. "You're right. Prim can never know either. I'd like to pretend she's still innocent and naïve. I know it's not true, but can I just have that dream for a little white longer?"

He pressed a kiss to my temple and murmured, "Whatever you want, Kat. Whatever makes you happy."

He lifted his face to mine, and my heart turned over at his expression. He was all fire and molten, silver-colored eyes that made me want to take the world on my shoulders if it would ease my burden. He lowered his head, and our mouths found each other. Sweet. Tender. Loving. Heated. Sexy. Demanding.

Hard again, I realized, and somehow, we were back on the hideous heart-shaped bed. The second time was slow and sweet. Missionary position and lingering, passionate looks and breathy moans and gentle fingers on my cheeks and the scrape of my fingernails up his back and my legs holding him captive and him stroking deeper and deeper and deeper. My clinging to him and him cradling me and my chest emptied out and hollow and my heart bursting and a love so deep I was scared by it.

It seemed to last forever. Like a dream. An otherworldly experience that burned from the inside out until they burst into flame together, all broken cries and desperate pleading and climaxes that milked everything from the other.

Languid and melted and drizzled caramel is what we just did. Those words don't even go together, but I couldn't even care. That was how amazing I felt. Limp and sated and deeply in love with my husband and soulmate.

"What time is it?" I asked, and he glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

"5:15"

"Really? You've been sexing me up for almost three hours?"

"Baby, I've been sexing you up for a hell of a lot longer than that," he drawled, too exhausted to enunciate any clearer. "More like the past few years."

I rolled my eyes and pushed away from him. "Your ego's on fire today."

"Kind of like my sex moves."

I snorted and rocked to my feet. "I can't deal with you right now. You're loopy after you get off this many times. I'm gonna go shower, and then you're gonna take me out to dinner and romance the hell out of me."

"Want company?"

"You couldn't get off this bed if you tried. Besides I've got to save some energy for later tonight when my husband gets me into bed."

"Lucky guy."

"He very much is," I said with a grin as I poked my head around the bathroom door and winked at him.

Not even a moment later, I shrieked.

I hear him scramble to his feet. "What's wrong? What's— Are you okay?" he bellowed as he burst into the bathroom. He ground to a halt when he saw my standing with my hand over my mouth.

"This," I started. "This is even worse. Than the bed. That's impossible. Nothing can be worse than that."

But it was. The jetted bathtub was a glittery hot pink with silver stars in swirly patterns. Cotton candy scented bath bombs and strawberry shampoo were scattered across the countertop, and the towels were a pastel pink that looked like watered-down antacid.

"Oh, we're so doing this," he said. "Get naked. I mean, you're already... Never mind. Get in. We're doing this shit."

"What? No."

"Oh, hell yes. We're gonna fuck in this tub. I don't care that we've done three rounds so far. We're gonna make this happen."

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, and he had the courtesy to look a little chagrined.

"Yeah, okay. I'll break my dick if I try to go again, but I can get you off another fifty times."

"Peeta."

"Katniss," he answered, his tone just a touch more sarcastic than it probably should be.

"I don't know if I can go again."

"That sounds like a challenge," he said, gleefully rubbing his hands together. "Totally accepted. Get in."

"But—"

"Yes, exactly. That too."

My eyes went wide at his insinuation, but I snapped my mouth shut. He flipped the water on and adjusted the temperature before grabbing a bottle of "sensual bubble bath" that promised to create a "pleasurable experience meant to enhance a couple's intimate moments." In other words, it fizzed a little. He helped me into the tub—still he was—way too hard to believe—and retreated to the other room. He came back with the Champagne and two glasses. He poured the glasses and came to join me. Setting them on the rim of the tub.

I was settled under the bubbles and waiting expectantly for him. He climbed in behind me and kissed my neck, nibbling and nipping until I melted in his arms, my head lolling against his shoulder. He nudged my legs open, braced himself around me.

I moaned softly, and he grinned against my jawline. Slowly, he caressed me with those thick, strong fingers of his, nudging and teasing, taking direction from my responses. It was one of those things he could always do to make me unravel. God, how he can. I sighed when he stimulated my clit and pussy. Now, I cried his name and begged, and he worked it in slowly.

"Peeta," I keened. "Peeta, Peeta, Peeta."

"What, sweetheart? Tell me what you want."

"So full," I babbled. "Filling me up and full and yes. More. Good. Please. Yeah."

"Yeah?"

I nodded and tensed. "Yeah. I can't—"

My voice rose in panic and cracked. He soothed me with butterfly kisses along my jaw and gentle caresses on my inner thigh. He didn't stop, though. I was an instant away from something I desperately wanted, and he had no intention of denying me.

It wasn't gentle when I came. I screamed and snapped in his arms. My body jerked and limbs flailed, water splashed over the tub and onto the floor, and he fought to keep me from sinking below the surface. He held me through it, my back cradled to his chest, as I twisted and turned in simultaneous attempts to rut harder and break free.

I quieted slowly, whimpered groans giving way to intermittent whines caught in the back of my throat, and my body pliant until I slumped against him. He threaded our fingers together and waited for me to come back to myself.

"I'm not going to survive this honeymoon," I said eventually, my voice rough and deep. "You're going to kill me. Death by sex. I can't wait."

"What can I say? I'm a giver."

"And I still need a shower."

He chuckled and whispered in my ear, "You want company?"

"You keep your damn hands off me," I protested weakly. "You already asked that once, and I should have said no way in hell the first time. I'm gonna lie here for a few minutes, try to find my limbs again. Go ahead and shower and then I'll go when you're done."

He kissed me and rose from the tub. Water tracked down his body, and he grinned at my hungry glance. Even in exhaustion, I wanted him, and I could tell that made him happier than he ever dreamed he could be. He showered quickly, kissed me again, and left me alone in the bathroom to recover.

"Hey, hon," Peeta called, "the forecast doesn't look so good."

I didn't answer. I heard him cross to the bathroom and poked his head inside. "Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Storm's moving in tonight. We might need to make dinner quick. Get back into the room and stay high and dry."

"I'll be out in a second."

"But will you?" he mumbled, and left.

"What're you reading?" I asked when I re-entered the room. He glanced over and waggled his eyebrows at my bare shoulders and towel-clad body.

"My sexy wife." When I tossed a glare at him, he motioned to the pamphlet. "Just looking at some information about the place. What to see, perfect places to camp, hikes and trails. That kind of stuff."

"Mmmm... What are you hungry for tonight?"

"Honestly?"

I snapped upright and said firmly, "No."

"Fine," he sighed, "something substantial. Lots of carbs. You've worn me out here."

"Me? You're the one who won't even let me take a bath without— I mean—" I blushed, and he took mercy on me.

"Without going backdoor?"

I closed my eyes, and I groaned, "Why the hell did I ever marry you?"

"Because I go backdoor." I threw a pair of jeans at him, and he caught them with a laugh. "Because I love you, and you love me. That's why."

"God help me, I do."

"Good. Now, get dressed," he said firmly. "We need some food, and I want to get back here and get you safely into bed before the storms hit."

We enjoyed a pasta dinner overlooking the mountain terrain below us as the sky turned pastel pink and orange. Full on bread and tomato sauce, we walked hand in hand back to our room. Our kisses tasted like garlic and promises and commitment. When the rain began to fall, we were back in bed, moving together, a storm raging between us that put the one outdoors to shame.

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