Between the craziness of the holidays, the back-to-back snowstorms that rendered the roads treacherous for days on end, and the extreme cold that made it impossible to send the kids outdoors to play for more than a few minutes, Katniss was certain she was losing her mind. And it certainly didn't help that half of Peeta's staff had the flu. He'd been stuck late at the bakery every night since Christmas, leaving Katniss to deal with her cabin-fevered brood alone.

So when her friend Madge called and offered to take the kids for the night, Katniss did what any sane person would do - she gathered up pyjamas and toothbrushes for Willow and the twins and packed them all in the back of her Subaru.

Driving back down her long country driveway forty-five minutes later, Katniss began to relax, for the first time in weeks. An evening alone. She could have a long, hot bath, drink a glass of wine, and check Tumblr while awake enough to actually read it. Oh, maybe that incredible mermaid story would have an update? The possibilities were endless…

Shucking her boots and coat, she walked into the living room smiling to herself, only to stop dead in her tracks. The room was in complete disarray, blankets and pillows were everywhere, draped and piled over the furniture. Damn, she thought she'd cleaned up all of that crap earlier. Archer must have pulled it all out again while she was wrestling Rye into his snowsuit. As much as she adored her four-year-old sons, they were definitely going to be the death of her.

Her sigh looking at the mess was long and loud. So much for a relaxing evening; it was going to take the last of her energy just to refold all of the blankets and schlep them back to the linen closet. But then a mop of golden curls popped out of the chaos, and she jumped. "Peeta?"

With his pale curls and mischievous grin, Peeta Mellark was almost the spitting image of his sons, albeit bigger and older. But the glint in his crystalline blue eyes was all his own.

Katniss knew that expression. She loved that expression. Warmth spread throughout her, pooling in her core, dashing her annoyance at the mess and the interruption of her solitary plans. "You're home," she murmured as he held open the flap of what she was beginning to see was a blanket fort and beckoned her inside with a wiggle of his brows. She rolled her eyes, but dropped to her knees to crawl in after him.

The fort was far more elaborate than she'd first thought, and while not huge inside, it was perfect for two. Peeta had strung up white twinkle lights and low music hummed from his docking station. And on what she thought was normally their ottoman (though it was hard to tell, all swathed as it was in sheets), sat a bottle of wine and a white bakery box that she hoped was full of Mellark's famous cheese buns.

(She knew it would be.)

Once she'd clambered over the piles of throw cushions to sit beside Peeta, he pulled her into his arms. She was enveloped in warmth, wrapped in the scents of cinnamon and dill that clung to him a like a lover's caress. Katniss sighed, curling into her husband as he kissed her hair, luxuriating in the comfort and quiet of their cozy little nest. "Gale texted me, let me know he and Madge have the rugrats," he said. "I called in some favours so I could get home to you early for a change." He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply.

"Favours?" She sighed as his lips slid lower, his breath hot against her ear.

"Mmmm," he agreed. "I might be making the cake for Thresh's daughter's sweet sixteen."

Katniss laughed. "You were already going to make Rue's birthday cake." Peeta chuckled too, but the mirth cut off as she dragged her fingers under the hem of his shirt, palming the abdominal muscles that were still firm and flat even after ten years of marriage. Forget the wine and cheese buns, all she really wanted was Peeta.

He growled as her fingers slipped into his waistband. "I'm trying to seduce you here, with wine and treats," he mumbled. "You're spoiling my plans." But the erection he thrust against her hip told her he wasn't upset in the least.

Peeta slipped the buttons of her flannel shirt open, one by one, dipping his head to kiss each exposed inch of collarbone. Her fingers abandoned their wandering, sliding up to instead tangle in his curls, overlong, just the way she loved them.

She lost herself in sensation as Peeta explored maddeningly slowly, his stubble rasping across her skin. He kissed the soft swells above her simple cotton bra, groaning his appreciation into her flesh. "So sexy," he whispered.

It hadn't been that long since the last time they'd made love, not really. But the stress and solitude of the past couple of weeks made it feel like forever. She was aching for him, body and soul. "I've missed you so much," she breathed, then cringed at the vulnerability in her voice. She knew Peeta didn't want to be away so much, knew he hated missing out on their home life.

Peeta lifted his head. "I'm sorry I haven't been here," he whispered, but she silenced him with a kiss.

"We're here now," she said against his lips.

"We're here now," he agreed. "And I just want to spend every possible minute with you."

"I'll allow it," Katniss smiled, tugging him to lie on top of her, revelling in the feeling of his solid weight pressing her down. Safe and cherished.

Peeta continued with his controlled exploration, as if he knew intuitively that what she needed at that moment was to be loved slowly, fully, with no distractions. Gentle hands caressed, peeled away each layer reverently, lips and tongue and teeth following, building in intensity until Katniss was nothing but a panting, squirming ball of need. "Please," she begged. "Please, Peeta."

"Tell me what you want," he growled, gravel-voiced. Though she was in nothing but panties he was still fully clothed somehow, the seam of his trousers rubbing her just right as he rocked above her. Katniss arched against him, trying to tug off his shirt.

"You," she gasped.

"I'm yours," he said simply.

"Take off your clothes," she whispered. He knelt between her splayed thighs, head brushing the roof of their blanket fort, static and twinkle-lights haloing him. Katniss licked her lips as he pulled off his tee, baring pale, toned skin kissed by burnished golden hair. He was impossibly hot, even hotter than he had been when they first started dating, way back in high school. She reached for him, stubby fingernails tracing his outer obliques, the oh-so-sexy vee that pointed downwards, beckoning her eyes to follow.

She couldn't resist cupping him over his khakis, and he twitched in her hand, his head falling forward, breath escaping in a shuddering moan. "Can you feel the effect you always have on me?" he murmured, thrusting shallowly against her hand. Katniss squeezed her affirmation, earning another guttural groan.

Together, they stripped away the last few garments between them.

"You're so wet," Peeta panted appreciatively as his fingers found her core, circling with a confidence born of years together.

"I want you," she gasped, knowing what that word would do to her husband. Though he was a strong, confident man, the shy teenager who took years to shore up enough courage just to speak to her still lurked in his psyche. Any reminder that she chose him, above everyone else, drove him wild.

Peeta kissed her, hard, a kiss flavoured with lust and love and gratitude. Then his huge hands were caressing her thighs, spreading her wide for him. His head dipped, teasing her aching flesh, driving her higher but not letting her get too close to the edge, tormenting even as he worshipped her body until she was begging. She tugged his golden curls, and he acquiesced, sliding back up her body, practically chuckling at her impatience. But when she took him in hand his humour changed into something more carnal.

She guided him home, sighing as he filled her, revelling in the stretch, the burn of his possession. She loved the way Peeta always had to pause when he first entered her, as if the feeling of her body gripping his was so overwhelming it momentarily paralyzed him.

Then he was moving, deep, controlled thrusts. Even with the thousands of times they'd done this, Katniss swore it only got better and better. Peeta's pace never faltered as he kissed and licked and nipped her body, leisurely building her pleasure.

She moaned softly against Peeta's throat, but he lifted his head, locking his lust-hazed gaze with her own. "Let me hear you, Kitten," he growled. "I want to hear you." She knew what he meant. Far too often their lovemaking had to be nearly silent, lest they wake the kids. But they were alone, they could be free with their passion.

"Peeta," she gasped, and his smile turned cocky.

"Louder, Kitten," he said, gripping her thighs to tilt her pelvis, increasing the force of his thrusts and she complied, howling her pleasure to the fabric sky. Peeta cursed, sliding a hand between them, stroking her deftly as she watched him struggle to stay in control.

"I'm so close," she all but wailed and his thumb pressed just a little harder against her pearl, sending her skyrocketing. He followed, his shout of release loud and joyous. Then he collapsed beside Katniss, gathering her into his arms, gasping words of praise.

They laid together in perfect post-coital contentment until Katniss's stomach protested. Peeta laughed, and pulling himself upright, kissed her stomach - softer now, after three children. Then he reached for the bakery box while Katniss watched him, silver eyes glowing with affection.

He fed her sips of wine and bites of golden pastry, kissing away the crumbs, the adoring smile never leaving his handsome face. And Katniss felt relaxed and refreshed, for the first time in weeks.

"So why the blanket fort?" Katniss asked as she nibbled a second cheese bun. Peeta laughed.

"There was a trail of blankets all down the hall when I got home," he said, and Katniss groaned. She should have known Archer had been behind this after all. "I was going to put them away, but then I figured why not have fun with them instead?" Peeta pulled her closer, dislodging one of the quilts to wrap around her naked body. She hummed her approval.

"I like it," she admitted. "Our own little cozy cave. Like a refuge from reality." Peeta's eyes were alight with pleasure. Marriage and parenthood and adult responsibilities did little to dampen his boyish enthusiasm for life, his lightness, his goodness, and Katniss couldn't help loving him for it. He always brought whimsy and play into their lives, even when the day to day drudgery was almost overwhelming. Especially then, really.

"We could stay here all night," he teased, but Katniss shook her head.

"Cozy, yes, but far less comfortable than our bed," she laughed. "And I think I'm lying on crumbs." She sat up reluctantly.

Peeta sighed with mock annoyance, but his eyes twinkled. "Oh all right." He handed Katniss the wine bottle and half-empty bakery box. "You go on ahead, I'll put away the pillows and blankets."

"Leave them, at least until the kids get home tomorrow." Katniss glanced around at the twinkle lights, the impressive way the roof was suspended using one of Willow's skipping ropes. All three kids would be enamoured with Peeta's creation, and it would doubtless buy her a solid forty minutes of peace.

She might get to read Tumblr yet…