Page 59 of Mate Night Snack
As they headed toward the kitchen, Katniss tried to push away the lingering unease that had been growing stronger each day. The dreams were getting worse, more vivid, more specific.And something told her they were just the beginning of what Ashwin had planned.
But whatever came next, they'd face it together. She just had to make sure Emmett was strong enough to stand when the real fight began.
24
EMMETT
The kiss started gentle, a reassurance more than passion, but it deepened quickly as desperation crept in at the edges. The fear they'd been holding back, the uncertainty about what tomorrow might bring, all of it poured into the connection between their mouths. Emmett's hands found her waist, pulling her closer, needing to feel her warmth and vitality against him.
"I love you," he whispered against her lips, the words carrying more weight than simple affection. They were a promise, a vow, a declaration of everything he was willing to fight for.
"I love you too," she whispered back, her fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt. "Show me."
They moved together toward the bed, shedding clothes with urgent hands and heated kisses. The soft cotton of her tee hit the floor, followed by his thermal shirt and the worn denim that had seen too many long days. Moonlight streamed through the windows, painting their skin in silver as they came together on the quilt his grandmother had made, all careful stitches and faded patterns that spoke of love built to last.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, tracing the curve of her collarbone with gentle fingers. Her skin was warm silk beneath his touch, sun-kissed and perfect, marked only by the small freckle just above her heart that he'd memorized weeks ago.
"So are you," she replied, her hands exploring the broad expanse of his chest, following the map of old scars that told the story of his past. When her fingers found the raised line across his left shoulder, she pressed a kiss there, soft and reverent. "Every part of you."
Her lips mapped him, traced every inch she hadn’t touched yet. His hands cradled her hips, his thumbs stroking over the curve of her ass, then lower, spreading her open so he could kneel between her thighs and take in the full view.
She was already wet.
Her pussy glistened in the moonlight, folds swollen and ready, her thighs trembling slightly beneath his touch. He groaned low in his throat and leaned in, dragging his tongue along the seam, tasting her, claiming her all over again.
She gasped, hands shooting to his hair.
“Emmett…”
“I want to feel you come on my tongue first,” he rasped, voice wrecked with need.
He sucked her clit, firm and steady, tongue flicking in slow, deliberate circles. She arched against his mouth, hips rolling, breath breaking into ragged cries.
“Oh God—don’t stop. Right there.”
He moaned into her. The vibrations pushed her higher. Her thighs locked around his head and she cried out, coming hard, her pussy clenching, pulsing against his tongue.
He didn’t stop until her hands fell slack.
Then he kissed up her stomach, over the swell of her breasts, and caught her mouth with his again. She tasted like wild honey and storm.
He moved above her, the head of his cock brushing against her slick heat.
“Tell me you want this.”
“I wanteverything,” she breathed, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I want you to fuck me like I belong to you.”
That nearly broke him.
He drove into her in one stroke, deep and rough. Her cry tore free, nails clawing at his shoulders. He set a pace—fast, hard, consuming—his cock plunging into her, over and over, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the cabin.
“You feel that?” he growled, pressing her wrists into the mattress, fucking her with everything he had. “This is what it means to be mine.”
She whimpered beneath him. “Iamyours.”
His teeth found her neck again, this time closer to that claiming mark waiting to be made. She twisted beneath him, meeting every thrust, breath catching with each push of his cock deeper into her tight heat.
“I can feel you everywhere,” she panted, voice breaking. “It’s like—like fire in my veins.”
