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breakfast, then went out to gather more firewood to put on the hearth.
    Midday faded into afternoon and X wasn’t back.
    I practiced putting together the sniper rifle and one of the smaller handguns. A six-millimeter, like you see in the movies, with a cartridge that loads into the butt. Then I went outside and practiced my aim. I hit the bullseye with the six-millimeter with a heavy silencer on the end, but there was no one there to share my accomplishment with.
    Twilight came and X wasn’t back.
    I reheated last night’s dinner and ate by the fireplace, my mind wandering over different scenarios where X had been waylaid or he’d been compromised. Every little noise that came from outside made me sit up and watch the door. But it didn’t open.
    Night settled in and X wasn’t back.
    He told me not to worry, that he’d be fine, but I felt restless. X seemed indestructible when he turned on his hitman mode, but I’d learned that even he was vulnerable and very much human.
    When my eyes began to droop, I settled into bed, listening to the silence, willing to hear the car pull into the driveway, to hear the crunch of gravel underneath the tires, to hear him come through the front door. But as sleep began to claim me and silence reigned, I started to dread that he wasn’t coming back at all.
    I started to fear that they’d killed him. And if they’d eliminated X, what hope did I have?
    It only felt like minutes had passed when I jerked awake. The room was lightening with the sunrise, murky grey filtering through the little window by the bed. A body moved against mine, an arm wound around my waist and I panicked, twisting amongst the sheets.
    I came face to face with a half naked X and my heart thumped in relief.
    “X,” I murmured, sighing. I’d never been happier to see the son of a bitch in my entire life. Absence made the heart grow fonder and all of that.
    His eyes cracked open and he moved against me, pulling my leg up over his waist and pushing my knickers down over my ass. I felt his erection against my thigh and he shifted to flex it against my clit.
    “Why did you sleep next to me?” I sighed, my pussy flaring.
    “I felt fucking bad,” he hissed, shoving his boxers down.
    “About what? Leaving me here alone or trying to strangle me again?”
    With a growl, he rolled me over, pinning me beneath him. “Don’t,” he hissed, grasping my wrists and wrenching my arms over my head. “Fucking don’t .”
    I locked my legs around his waist and began rubbing against him, trying to sate the throbbing between my legs. “Did you get what we need?”
    His gaze darkened and in one fluid motion he wrenched my shirt up and over my head, exposing my breasts before capturing my wrists again. Holding me firm with one hand he moved down my body, licking a trail from my neck to my right breast and began sucking on the nipple he’d bitten back in his apartment in the city. That was the first time he’d tasted blood during sex, I was sure of it.
    Gasping as his tongue circled, I thrust up against his mouth begging to feel that pain again. His free hand tore at my underwear, exposing me to him.
    “I want it,” X muttered against my breast, thrusting his cock against my clit. “I want to taste…”
    He bit me at the exact moment he plunged his cock into my pussy and I bucked against him, my lips parting in a silent scream. I felt my skin tear, the flesh stinging, but he began to soothe the mark with his tongue, while stroking me with his dick. I wasn’t ready to take him, and my sex stung as he forced himself inside me again and again, but it didn’t take long for my arousal to spark.
    X moaned, his chest rumbling as he lavished attention on my breast, tasting the blood he’d drawn. He held my hands firm and I wriggled against him, desperate to touch while he fucked me.
    His pace was slow and torturous, and I began to whimper, begging him to fuck harder, to let me go, but he ignored me. He was totally enraptured, a