A/N: So here is the second part to An Affair to Forget. Marked 'M' for mature content. Hope you all enjoy! :)


Insecurities and sweet nothings (M)

This contract had definitely been a weird one. We had been camped out in Portugal for what felt like weeks but which had actually only been a few days, searching for the impossible to locate Miguel Lopez. Now I was sat waiting for 47 to return from finally dispatching the low life crime boss, after watching him engage in an affair with a horrendously vulgar woman which I had initiated. You could say what you wanted about my ex-mentor, but Diana had been right about one thing, you certainly saw some shit being a handler.

I rubbed a weary hand over my face as I destroyed the last of the files on the laptop I had been using. I had seen that woman kiss him first and felt nothing. He had looked suitably repulsed by the physical contact, his body language suggesting he would rather knock her out than kiss her. But then something had changed and after backing 47 against a wall and attacking him they had ended up on the bed, 47's shirt half open and his hand gripping hers in a passionate grip. That kiss had been notably different to the first one. 47 had been the one to initiate it for a start and he had kissed her as if he actually wanted her. It had been around that time that I had been forced to look away and saw our target returning to the room adjacent to them with an entourage of armed men.

I wasn't sure why I had felt so uncomfortable all of a sudden. I knew he loved me, in his own way, although he'd never told me. I was the only person he actually let touch him, or tease him, or order him around in anyway. Or at least…I had been. What if it was all a façade? Shutting the laptop down I turned my attention to our luggage. It was minimal as normal except for 47's weapons. Carefully I placed his beloved silverballer into its case and tried not to think about that fucking kiss anymore. It had been my idea, so I couldn't exactly get mad at him. But why had he looked like he enjoyed it so much?

The sound of the door bursting open and slamming made me jump several feet in the air. An alarmed shriek escaping me as I whirled around to face my intruder, the gun I had been packing aimed at the figure in the dorrway. 47 stood breathing heavily, his shirt still half torn open, blood splatters blooming on the pale blue fabric. I stared at him with wide eyes, his abrupt, conspicuous entrance even more alarming than his dishevelled appearance. I lowered the gun and watched his eyes follow its progress back into its case.

"What's wrong?" I croaked. My throat constricting as I took in my husband's sub Antarctic stare. He stayed by the door, his expression harder than granite. He looked so angry and I couldn't fathom why. Usually killing had the opposite effect on him and as far as I could tell once Miguel had showed up and he had subdued the woman, the hit had gone smoothly. I took a step towards him but in a flash his hand was up, commanding me to stop. My usual snarky comments at being told what to do died when his expression didn't change, and for the first time in a long time I felt the icy fingers of fear creep up my spine.

"47?" I tried again, my voice even more feeble than before.

"Why do you love me?" The question was unexpected but he delivered it in the unemotional way he reserved for others. The crawling hand of fear tightened around my gut as I stared into the aloof assassin's dead eyes.

"What kind of question is that? Did something go wrong?" I responded, unsure how else to approach this bizarre, and quite frankly, disturbing situation. His eyes narrowed, the atmosphere dropping several degrees between us.

"What is it about me you love?" He spat the last word at me as if it were obscene. I blinked a few times, unwilling to move in case I provoked him to get angrier. Although I still had no idea what I had done to deserve this reaction.

"Ummm, I've never really thought about it. I just do." It wasn't the right answer. 47 clenched his fists, his demeanour shifting from impassive to barely contained rage in a millisecond.

"I need to know Morgan." His voice now had a desperate edge to it. An urgency like his life depended on the answer I gave. I swallowed, the fear still rooting me to the spot. Whatever had happened in that room had clearly shaken 47. I tried to organise my answer so as to not upset him further, although I was feeling pretty rattled myself.

"You make me feel calm." I eventually blurted out, making me flinch and shut my eyes against the next stage of 47's wrath. The answer was certainly ironic as I felt anything but calm right now. When nothing happened, I opened one eye slowly and looked at my husband. He was still standing hands clenched, his posture rigid but there was a confused look on his face where before there had been cold fury.

"Calm?" He said, drawing out the word as if he had only just heard it for the first time. I nodded.

"Yes, whenever you're with me I feel like everything is going to be okay. Even when we're surrounded by people wanting to kill us or falling out of the sky in a busted airplane, you just have a way of…grounding me. I can't explain it any better, sorry." He tilted his head a millimetre to the side.

"I see." He said simply, then after a brief pause. "Anything else?"

"You make me laugh." One eyebrow went up. "You don't do it on purpose but that's why it's funny." I saw some of the tension leave his body and I smiled shyly in response.

"You're fair and have a pretty good conscious, even if you don't believe so." I kept going, the more I listed things the more I found to love about him. "You're brilliant with Seren and I see how much you care for her, and your garden. You're kind when you're not overthinking things and you make us both feel safe."

I stopped, suddenly aware of the bewildered look he was giving me. The silence grew heavy between us as I saw him digest all the things I had just shot at him, his eyes growing warmer by the second. Looking into his ethereal eyes another thing popped into my head and before I could stop myself it had shot out my mouth.

"Your eyes." 47 gave me the oddest look he had ever given me and I had to stopped myself bursting into gut wrenching laughter. That would have certainly irritated him.

"My…eyes?" He asked, his voice wobbling with what sounded like amusement but which could have been unease. It was hard to tell with him. My cheeks flared, burning hotter than the Portuguese climate. 47 continued to look at me expectantly and I let out a sigh of resignation. I had started now, I might as well finish.

"I love your eyes." I said in a mousy voice. It could have been a trick of the light but I swear I saw the corner of his mouth twitch up.

"Really?" He said, his tone ever so slightly teasing. I scowled at him, my initial fear at his unexpected line of questioning evaporating with my embarrassment.

"Yes, I do. Are we done now? Why did you ask me that?" 47 took a step towards me, his expression unsure.

"I was curious." He replied cryptically and I narrowed my eyes at him. The anger in the room switching sides abruptly.

"Did you doubt me? After what I just watched I should be the one questioning you, don't you think?" He didn't move any closer.

"It was your idea."

"True…but I never thought you'd actually enjoy it. Or at least look like you were." I snapped, the logical argument I knew he'd throw at me riling me nonetheless.

"I'm good at pretending. You know this." He answered coolly. The teasing edge to his voice gone, the cool distance he preferred back.

"I know pretending 47, I've seen it enough. But the way you were with that woman near the end…that wasn't pretending." His eyes, that I had confessed my affection for only moments ago, hardened to two blue chips of ice.

"I was imagining it was you." He said, and it took me a minute to understand his words. The anger built up inside me like a pressure cooker.

"Excuse me?" I hissed in a deadly voice. The assassin didn't flinch.

"I asked you why you loved me because I was unsure whether you were attracted to the real me or a mask I present to the world." The pressure ticked up a few notches.

"You! I'm in love with you, you idiot. How many times do I have to say it?"

"I'm a monster Morgan. People don't love monsters." His voice was quiet but forceful. But I'd fought this battle a thousand times before and he wasn't getting away with it.

"I do. And I don't even care if you don't love me back, I just want things to stay as they are, right now. So stop trying to push me away. And definitely don't stick your tongue down another woman's throat quite as enthusiastically as you just did." My chest was heaving, the anger boiling over, my traitor eyes already starting to form the first tears of frustration. My husband simply stared back at me.

"I imagined she was you." He repeated, and I felt the air crackle with my fury.

"Is that supposed to be romantic? I don't need to here you say it 47 but it would be nice if you didn't give me mixed signals all the damn time." He frowned and then the fog seemed to lift from his eyes. Like he had just realised something.

"Your eyes." I blinked in confusion but he didn't give me a chance to query him. "Your smile when you think I'm not looking. Your intelligence and your bravery. The line you get between your eyebrows when you're angry. The way you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating. The way you are with Seren. The way you read my mind." His eyes bored into me, the air between us suddenly crackling with a very different kind of energy. The atmosphere grew heavy, as if preparing for something important. And then he said it.

"That's what I love about you."

It's funny how one word said by one particular person can turn your world on its axis, but it did. I felt the floor sway beneath me as my heart started beating far too fast. I knew how big a moment this was but I couldn't get my brain to reboot fast enough. It was still going haywire when 47 eyebrows lifted up into a concerned expression.

"You…you love me?" He seemed to think about my question before finally giving me a small curt nod. The room pitched alarmingly to one side. I struggled to remain upright and think at the same time. "That's the first time you've told me." I managed in a breathless voice.

He regarded me for a moment, then his eyes turned molten and the air was sucked out of my lungs in an electrically charged vacuum as he spoke in a husky voice. "I prefer to show you."

He was across the room before I could blink. One hand clamping around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The other threading through my hair, holding my face in place as he kissed me with a ferocity I was not expecting. His mouth burned against mine and I felt the little remaining breath I had escaping. I was helpless, trapped in his vice like grip, unable to speak or move away, and completely content with my circumstances. My already scrambled brain hummed happily away as 47 continued his passionate assault on my lips.

I expected him to pull away, as 47 could only manage intimacy for short burst, but he kept going. Only letting me take short gasping breathes as he stroked his tongue over mine in a gesture that always made my knees weak. A small, angry voice in the back of my mind reminded me that this was how he had kissed that woman early in the evening, and I attempted to break away from him so I could tell him as much. But despite my best efforts to talk he silenced me by sliding his hands down to hook underneath my thighs, lifting me up effortlessly.

I was vaguely aware we were moving as I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep myself upright, his mouth never leaving mine. The next thing I knew I was falling through the air, my heart leaping into my throat before my back collided with the resistant surface of the bed. I stared up at 47 in bewildered surprise as he stood over me, his expression fiercely intense. He gripped his bloody, half torn shirt and quickly disposed of it, ripping the remaining buttons off. Any more reservations or queries I had died on my tongue at the sight of his bare chest and the uncharacteristic assertiveness he was displaying.

My mouth hung open as he lowered himself over me, his arms trapping me. Without any of his usual indecision he forced my mouth shut with his own. Fire licked though my veins as my senses tried to process the feeling of his lips moving against mine and the weight of his body pressing me into the bed. There was a rough hunger to his kiss now, and I felt my lungs ache as they asked for the oxygen I was slowly being deprived of.

His urgency scared me and I placed my palms of his muscular chest, pushing with all my strength to try and get him to stop for just a moment. I might as well have been trying to move a concrete wall for all the progress I made. Instead of moving off me he finally moved his mouth away from mine, pressing it to my ear, his voice low as he spoke softly into it.

"You say you love me for who I am, but I wonder if you really know who that is." The skin on my arms prickled despite the warm, solid body pressed against me and the fire currently shooting through my blood. He moved his head so I could feel his eyes on my face, although I was unable to move due to his proximity. "I was made to kill. To crave it. If you only knew how often I got the urge…" Slowly, slowly one of his hands inched across my body. Brushing over my arm, across my chest and coming to a rest, hovering above my throat. "I wonder then if you'd love me. If you knew how easy it would be for me to hurt you…to kill you." His hand pressed down on my throat, his fingers gripping the soft flesh.

A spike of adrenaline shot through my body as it reacted to the pressure of his hand; the tight, restrictive feeling sending panic signals to my brain. But I kept still, my instincts telling me if I tried to run or fight that I would lose almost instantly. I could feel his breath against my ear as he watched me, his grip tightening just enough to make it uncomfortable but not alarming.

"You won't hurt me." I managed to say, my voice strained. 47 cocked his head slightly in my peripheral vision, the blue of his eyes a dazzling blur.

"You believe that?" All my senses were focused on the point where his large hand wrapped around my throat. He was as still as stone, a coiled viper waiting for its moment to strike. But I wasn't afraid, not really. The animal part of my brain was on high alert, but I knew that hand, which had snapped some many necks, wasn't going to add another to its list tonight.

"Yes." I whispered, the fire in my blood flaring as the assassin let out a low moan, his head lowering to the junction between my neck and shoulder, and the soft exposed skin. His hand remained locked in place, although he had eased the pressure off, allowing me to take short gasping breaths as he ran his lips over the sensitive spot.

"I'm going to show you how you make me feel Morgan, and it's not going to be gentle." My stomach clenched in response to his words. Who was this new 47? His lips were trialling fire along my collar bone now. The feeling of his hand around my neck not just a warning anymore, but a promise of things to come. A niggle of fear entered the back of my mind. I knew the low opinion 47 had of himself and I stubbornly refused to accept it. I hoped I wouldn't regret my obstinance.

"I'm not afraid." I lied, and felt my heart jump into my mouth as his eyes flicked up to me from his position near my chest. My traitor's heart was hammering away, betraying my emotions.

"I think you are." Quick as a snake striking he moved his head back to the sweet spot on my neck and sank his teeth into the tingling flesh. It was only a nip but my body jerked involuntarily and I let out a small yelp of surprise. 47 moved back up to hover over me, his eyes burning brightly with an excitement I had only seen when he was on a contract. He had the look of a predator about him, and I was his prey.

"You sure?" He asked me, my one chance at escape. Any other woman would have backed out now, but I was a stupid wide eyed deer and I was hypnotised by the viper staring down at me.

"Yes."

In an impressive display of inhuman speed he released my throat and was on his feet in a second. He gripped the waistband of my jeans and pulled them off in one clean movement. Not wanting to be completely useless, I propped myself up and tried to free myself of my shirt. However 47 had other ideas. He gripped my shirt and dealt with it in a similar manner to his own.

"Hey, just because yours was ruined no need to break mine." I protested reflexively and bit my lip as I instantly regretted my outburst. 47's expression was deadly. Delicious chills ran up and down my spine as a heady mix of adrenaline and hormones flooded through my system. Calmly he reached into one of the bags I had been packing and pulled out one of his signature red silk ties.

"This is going to prove difficult if you keep resisting me, so I think I'll take precautions." Before I could ask what he meant by 'precautions' he grabbed both my wrists in one hand and forced them above my head. Leaning over me he deftly wrapped the silken material around my wrists binding them together. My heart was beating violently against my chest as I felt tugging on my bound hands as 47 tied my to the study oak headboard.

I stared up at him as he assessed his handiwork, his ice blue eyes sliding down to my face. Testing the knot I found it predictably unyielding. The assassin raised an eyebrow at my futile attempt at escape and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I realised I was completely vulnerable. He gently stroked a finger along the side of my face before relieving me of my underwear.

"I love it when you blush like that." He growled as he undid his trousers and positioned himself between my legs. He didn't give me any time to adjust to the new scenario I found myself in. I let out a small gasp as he pushed himself inside me and immediately set a punishing rhythm. I felt the fire begin to lick down to the junction between my thighs, the smooth silk of his tie pulling on my wrists with every jolting movement. His intense gaze was making me feel more exposed and I leant my head back, closing my eyes to escape it. He let out a low snarl and pushed one of my legs up, allowing him to deepen his thrusts. His other hand gripped my chin and pulled my head back, my eyes snapping open at the unexpected action.

"Look at me." He growled, his eyes burning me like blue fire. That wonderous concoction of excitement with just a dash of fear sent a wave of desire to my groin. I bit down on my lip but couldn't help the moan of pleasure escape me as I stared into the eyes of my husband.

He increased his pace, the tight knot condensing in my gut as he did. My arms were beginning to ache from being kept in their elevated position but in truth I didn't mind, not one bit. I could feel the barely contained strength behind every movement he made. He was usually extremely gentle with me, as if worried he might accidently break me at any moment, but this time he didn't seemed to care. It didn't hurt, but the meaning behind it was painfully clear. He wanted me to see how dangerous he was.

My eyes began to close again, the feeling of ecstasy building towards its inevitable crescendo. I fully expected 47 to scold me again for shutting my eyes, denying him the ability to look into them. Instead I felt him lean forward and release the knot trying my hands to the bed. I was flying through the air before I could register what was happening. With a huff I landed back on the bed face down, my hands still bound in front of me, the headboard I had previously been tied to the only thing I could see.

"If you don't want to look at me we'll do it this way." He said in a low, gruff voice. Two rough hands grabbed my hips and hoisted them into the air so I was balanced on my elbows and knees. I had just enough time to realise what was about to happen before he slammed into me again. I let out a harsh cry of surprise as he claimed me. I couldn't see his face but I heard his low growl of satisfaction as I instinctually pushed my hips back against the delicious feeling of him inside me.

I buried my head in the silk wrapped tightly around my wrists, it smelt overwhelming of him. My hands gripping the sheets beneath me as 47 continued his relentless rhythm. He was everywhere, his firm fingers digging into the mailable flesh at my hips, the intoxicating sound of his labour breathing reaching my ears, and the all-encompassing sensation of him filling me.

The tightly wound coil of desire flared, my nerves were singing at the unexpected thrill of being at his mercy. Suddenly there was an empty space where one of his hands had been, and a strong arm curled around my stomach lifting me upright. My back collided with his chest and the arm he had used to lift me pinned me to him. I let out a small cry as the feeling of my impending release rushed to meet me. It was excruciating and wondrous all at the same time. It turned to a gasp of shock as his other arm snaked up my body to gripped my throat in a gentle, but firm grasp.

Bound to him in this way I could feel his heart thudding against my back. He slid his hand up my throat, pushing my head back so my ear was level with his mouth. "You…are…mine…and…I…am…yours." He whispered between thrusts and I lost control.

I was aware of 47's grip tightening momentarily on my throat as my orgasm swept through me, my head thrown back on his shoulder as I cried out his name. The edge of my vision blurred as the strength of it hit me. I had never felt anything like it. Then his arm around my stomach gripped me against his sweat slick chest as he found his own release. The sound of him growling into my ear sending delicious aftershocks through me.

We stilled. Clasped together, back to front, out of breath and shaken. Finally he let me go and I collapsed on the rumpled bed sheets. I let out a breathy laugh as he bent over me, carefully untying the tie from around my wrists and I turned into my side rubbing the life back into them. It seemed his gentle side had returned now he had sated himself.

"I could get used to that." I chuckled and felt him pause, his eyes raking over my body. My body was exhausted from all the excitement and I found it hard to move my head. I felt the bed dip next to me as he lowered himself, he brushed his lips against my exposed shoulder sending a shudder through me. Then his solid presence was gone and he was up on his feet.

I watched him walk around the room, finishing the job I had started. We could stay here now the job was done but I still couldn't find the energy to move. A small smile played across my lips as my husband, the assassin, shrugged on a fresh shirt and tied the tie he had just used on me around his neck. He caught me watching him and I saw the glint of amusement in his eyes as he completed his perfect Windsor knot.

I wasn't sure what had just happened, but two things stood out to me. The first being I had just had the best sex of my life and would struggle to stand for a few days probably. The second, and most important thing, the supposedly cold hearted, merciless assassin I had devoted my life to had told me he loved me…and had meant it.