"You didn't have to." His stupid face says it all.

She pants out a laugh as his hips stutter down. She's not anywhere near as practiced at this as he is (obviously), but she's a fast learner. Her ego doesn't allow for anything else. And his lips are closing over her nipple and fuck it feels good, a streak of fire through her veins, pooling in her gut. She tugs on his hair harder, fingers working whatever stupid excuse the Capitol has for a button on his pants.

Multi-tasking, it turns out, is a skill she has in abundance. His pants come undone, and she doesn't hesitate in shoving them down over his hips. "Take them off already," she demands.