Dex lines up the scope, training it on the apartment building across the street. This window had a perfect viewpoint into where the copy cat was hiding. It also happened to be your bedroom window. He might have been a little reckless, staking out in his girlfriend's bedroom, but you were out of town for the weekend. He would have everything would be cleaned up by the time you got back. And besides, he really needed to eliminate this copy cat. He hums to himself as he adjusts the tripod of the sniper, but suddenly a prickle starts in the back of his neck. As soon as he registers that something wasn’t right, the bedroom light flicks on. This was not the plan. You weren't supposed to be back for another day, but here you stand stand in the doorway. Your face is momentarily frozen in time with a look of pure shock, with your finger still on the light switch. A strangled yelp escapes you as you drop your bag, and turn on your heel fleeing as quickly as you appeared. 

“Ah fuck” he mutters under his breath. He gives one last glance at the window, wistfully imagining driving a knife right through the copy cat’s eye, groaning as he stands up, and brushes off his suit. Your fingers fumble with the front door and chain lock, that you always locked when you entered your apartment, but now curse yourself for it. "There is a fucking intruder in my apartment this cannot be happening" loops in your head over and over.

Finally, your trembling hands open your front door, and you had only breached the front hallway when a hand is clamping down on your mouth. The intruder’s arm is reaching around your middle with such force that your feet comically fly out from under you. “Whoa, not so fast" soothing voice chides next to your face. The voice sounds like your boyfriend’s, but no, this is a psycho murderer assassin, with his tactical garb and sniper set up in your bedroom. With all of your might, you wriggle under his grasp, but he keeps talking, the voice becoming less foreign with each word. “Sweetheart, it’s just me. It’s Dex. You’re alright” He keeps repeating, muffled though the blue ski mask covering everything but his eyes.

He calmly steps backwards into the threshold of your apartment, kicking the door shut. Only then does he remove his hand from your mouth, and use it to pull off his mask. Sure enough, it’s your boyfriend Dex, not a strange man in your apartment. And he’s beaming down at you like this is the most normal thing in the world. His mouth tugs up in a lighthearted way that you had seen countless times before. Your heart tries to flip, the way it usually does, but now your heart feels like it’s in your throat. Your whole body trembles as you feel sheathed knives slung across his body digging into your back. 

“Can I let go of you now? Or are you gonna try to run again?” He asks.

You choke out fragments of words “I don’t-. Wha-?” Fear and confusion mix in your veins. Your mind feels detached from your mouth, so all the questions swirling around cannot be articulated out loud, even though you desperately want to scream them. 

He hushes you. “It’s alright, baby. Don’t be scared.” The iron grip around your middle tightens even more, as he peppers quick kisses down the side of your face. “See? It’s just me.” The familiar smell of your boyfriend has reached your nostrils, further confusing your brain. “You came back early to see me? You missed me, huh?” His words and affections are having the same effect as usual. Your racing heart still isn't calming - usually your boyfriend makes your heart race, but now it feels like it actually might beat out of your body. Your low belly ignites as he pulls your arse against his body, the protrusion of his cock digging into your backside. He nudges your head to the side, so he can access your mouth. “Gimme a kiss?” He asks close enough that his lips are already brushing yours, but he’s waiting on you to fully close the gap. 

“I don’t know..” you trail off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. You don’t know what’s going on, why he is dressed like an assassin, or why you’re so turned on. Your center feels like it's pulsing, aching and competing with your survival instincts to see which will dominate your thoughts.

His eyes bore into yours, crinkling at the edges “It’s still me. Still your Dexie” He uses the nickname that you use sometimes and he hates. “And I missed you too by the way. Feel how much I missed you?” Another grind into you, brings sensation of his hardening cock and a holstered weapon prodding you.

You raise up on your toes to meet your mouth against his, and he instantly melts. You feel his body weight slump with relief into your back. You open your lips so you can slot wet teeth and tongue - an action that feels familiar with your boyfriend even though the circumstances are anything but.

The clink of a belt unbuckling pulls you out of your thoughts. “Dex, what are you doing?” the words rush out of you, sounding nervous and eager in your own ears.

“Just reminding you.” He hastily hikes your dress up and pulls your arse up so he can wedge his heavy cock underneath you, dragging it across your entrance. "Reminding you that I'm not gonna hurt ya" With each brush across your wet folds, his words sound a little more slurred. “Sweetheart you’re soaked. Ya missed me so much, huh?” A finger hooks your panties, now thoroughly soaked in both of your arousal, off and onto the floor. He leans into you, bracketing your head with his arms on either side, and presses the tip of his cock inside you with a pained groan.

“Moremoremore" the plea flies out of your mouth automatically, embarrassingly fast. You bend to his mercy as he leans his body weight into yours. And he's so heavy that it's hard to keep standing, but feels overwhelming and invasive and perfect all at the same time. He presses his cock in, inch by inch, until finally there is none left to give. He's fully sheathed inside and the stretch is sending you clawing at your door. He wraps a protective arm around your middle again to hold you secure. He’s so big, holding you so tight, enveloping every one of your senses until all you feel is him. He finds a rhythm of gentle, easy thrusts, savoring every ridge of your wet, silken walls.

"I know, baby, I know" he mumbles into your face, and the scrape of stubble on your cheek pulls you back into your body. You hadn't realized you had been whimpering with each languid thrust. "You're so close" he soothes. A callused hand reaches under your dress to find your aching clit. His motions are picking up to become desperate snaps of his hips, plunging his cock at a new angle that makes you see stars. Energy shoots down to your feet standing on tiptoe as Dex circles your clit the final few times. Waves of orgasm rack your body, shuddering with pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his cock, your stomach muscles involuntarily clenching, and he chases his own orgasm with a final few thrusts. "Oh fuck sweetheart" he pleas, and soon after you feel spend filling you practically up into your stomach. He pants into your shoulder as his cock twitches and pulses inside of you - and now you're certain that you can barely hold against his body weight any longer. He senses your struggling underneath him, and pulls out of you with a hiss, standing you upright again and fixing your dress back over your arse.

"You do look really pretty. And I did miss you, really." He says. Then, groans as his knees pop when he picks up your panties off the floor and places them in your outstretched hand.