A/N: I apologize for the unacceptably long break between chapters.
Warning for extremely explicit scenes (and language) ahead. Adults, read on. Kids, see you when you turn 18. Seriously.
A second warning for utter lack of believability.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

He'd had a recurring dream about her for years. It wasn't the most elaborate or logical dream, and he'd certainly had dozens of others that were more explicit. But this dream kept slipping into his unconscious state every couple of months without apparent rhyme or reason, teasing him over what might be and leaving him with a hard on that could never just be willed away.

In the dream they are alone in the bullpen, and Tony is hovering behind her as she sits at her desk and types. They're arguing about something or other—honestly, it doesn't matter—and when she makes a point that he doesn't have a good answer for he does what he always does to try to put her off balance: invade her personal space. As soon as the comment is out of her mouth, Tony presses his chest against her back and argues his weakening point right against her ear.

As soon as he touches her he can feel the atmosphere change. She leans back against him and drops her head to the side, exposing her neck in enticing invitation, and Tony can't help but oblige her unspoken request. His mouth starts exploring the column of her throat, licking up the taste of her skin and kissing her flesh until it tightens and flushes. He can feel the vibration of her moans through his lips, and the trembling only gets stronger when he boldly slides his hand between the buttons on her shirt to cup her bare breast. She arches into his hand and groans his name as he squeezes the soft flesh, and then suddenly her shirt is open and he has a clear view over her shoulder of his hand on her body.

He watches her thighs fall open and hips buck into the air, and his free hand comes into play. He slides it down her belly and into her open pants, and his fingers find wetness and heat that makes him want to bite into her shoulder. He feels his way around her sensitive slickness as her groans turn to cries and she grinds against his hand, but right before she blows she pulls his hands away and turns to face him. Her clothes disappear as she sits on her desk and stares at him with dark, lusty eyes, and even though it's a dream he can feel the pressure around his wrist when she pulls him against her. He can feel her breath on his neck before he moves in to kiss her. He can feel the squeeze of her thighs as she hooks them around his hips. He can taste her mouth when they start to kiss passionately. He can feel the wet heat and pressure around his cock as he pushes himself inside her. And he swears—swears to God—that throughout the whole thing he can smell hints of her soap and shampoo under the heavy scent of her arousal.

The dream almost never continued to the actual sex, save for the first few moments. But even though it always left him frustrated, Tony had to admit it was one of his favorites. It was the only 3-D, surround sound, cinema experience dream he ever had, and the performances deserved Oscars.

But that earth-shattering dream came with a price, as Tony had come to realize in the 20 minutes that he'd been sitting paralyzed in his car outside her apartment. The thing about that dream, about all the dreams and fantasies he had about her, was that they were an ideal. In those dreams Ziva kissed him the way he liked to be kissed. She did things with her body that were purely designed to get him off. And the reason he'd been sitting in his car for 20 minutes instead of going straight up there and pulling off her clothes was that he didn't want the ideal to be ruined. Fantasizing about his partner was Tony's favorite (and guiltiest) pleasure just about every night and morning of the week. If he actually indulged in the fantasy and found that reality lacked a certain something it would tear down his much loved and carefully constructed fantasy life. And these days, a fantasy life and his right hand was pretty much all he had.

Of course, the man in him who loved sex more than food was appalled by these thoughts. There was a woman up there, the man said, who had sat at her desk tonight and looked at him like she wanted nothing more in life than to fuck him. Who closed her eyes and breathed heavily and occasionally moaned, damn it, right in front of his eyes and then left with an unspoken invitation to follow her home. What's more, the woman was the number one object of his fantasy life. She barely had to do much more than lick coffee from the corner of her mouth to make his thoughts turn X-rated, and if he saw her take off her jacket he almost had to leave the room. He was so desperate to get his hands on her that he would have fed Gibbs to a pack of lions if he thought it would buy him five minutes of free time to grip her hips in his hands and kiss her senseless. And yet here he was, sitting on her street in the middle of the night and fighting an internal war between just going up there and giving in to the desire that had been driving him crazy for years, and going home like a scared little virgin to protect his freaking fantasy life.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled to himself.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. This was ridiculous. This was so eighth grade, nervous-about-being-stuck-in-a-closet-with-the-hot-girl insane. He was a grown man with some very, very adult needs and desires that would almost certainly be attended to if he just got out of the damn car and walked up to her door. There was nothing wrong with doing this.

Yeah, right.

He glanced up at her window for the hundredth time. The light was still off as it had been since he arrived, but he knew she was still awake. She wouldn't be forever, though. She'd left the Navy Yard almost an hour and a half ago, and if Tony didn't make his move soon she was going to go to sleep and he will have missed his chance almost certainly for good.

The thought that he could end up being the one wholly and solely responsible for them missing their opportunity spurred Tony into brief action. He slid his cell phone out of his pocket, navigated to her number and then held his breath for five seconds before he found the guts to drop his thumb onto the call button.

"Tony," she answered. Her voice was soft and melodic, and Jesus, did she have any idea how sexy she sounded half the time?

He responded with a voice that sounded thick and unnaturally low to his ears. "Why were you looking at me like that?" He thought it was pretty obvious, but he still had to check. Ask permission. Give her a final chance to back out and send him home.

She didn't do any of those things. "Where are you?" she asked.

Tony swallowed and lifted his eyes to her window. "Outside."

There was a pause, and Tony was sure he heard a shuddering intake of breath over the line. But when she spoke there was nothing but confidence in her tone. "Good. You have your key, yes? I don't want to get out of bed."

She didn't wait for his response before hanging up. If he'd been looking for permission she'd just served it to him on a platter. What more could she say aside from Tony, will you please come up here and fuck me?

He slowly brought the phone down from his ear and slid it back into his pocket. He bit his lip as his pro-fantasy and pro-reality sides went another round in his head, and his body unexpectedly shuddered with an intense wave of nerves. He almost, almost gave himself over to them and drove away. But in the end, reality triumphed long enough to shove Tony out of the car and towards her building.

As instructed he unlocked her door with his set of keys and then closed it as quietly as possible before turning the locks. All the lights were off in her apartment and the only sound was the hum of the fridge. But her presence filled the rooms and drew him past the kitchen and down the hall to the last door on the right.

He used the seconds it took to walk to her bedroom to tell himself to just relax, be confident and go with it. She was in control of this—her invitation, her house, her bed—and that was actually a massive turn on that he should have been relishing. And honestly, he was; having a woman come on to him was undeniably sexy and it took some of the pressure off his performance. It was only the fact that Ziva was the woman coming on to him that was making him nervous, but he had to get over that fast. He'd kill himself if they got this far but squandered the opportunity because he couldn't make himself be comfortable with her.

The door to her bedroom was closed, so Tony took a final calming breath before he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Her room was mostly dark, save for a patch of light from the streetlight outside that fell across the foot of her bed. His eyes adjusted quickly to the half light and fell on Ziva sitting up at the head of her bed, her bare legs crossed and her hair sweeping over almost naked shoulders. She was in a tank top and he didn't know what else, and damn it, as hot as silky lingerie and slips could be, Tony had always had a weakness for casual, fitted cotton.

He held on to the doorknob to stop himself from just walking over there and shoving his tongue in her mouth, even though she'd made it pretty clear that she wouldn't object.

"Why were you looking at me like that?" he asked again. He wanted an answer. Not because he was seeking permission to come closer, but because he truly wanted to know what had been running through her head. The look on her face in the bullpen that night was going to be stuck in his memory and making him hard until the day he died.

He saw her swallow before she answered with a voice much deeper than her usual. "I was curious."


She paused, and he could feel her ordering the words in her head. "Do you blush?"

Of all the questions…

He clenched his hand into a fist and then let it relax in a display of monumental control. "Blush?"

"Yes. In your face."

He paused, and tried to make sure he was getting this right. "You want to know if I blush."

"Yes." She sounded almost pleased to have confounded him. Normally he'd try to give back as good as he got, but his brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders right now and he could only think of one thing to say.


Ziva bit her lip, and then tipped her chin towards him. "Because I would like to see it."

What the hell did she have planned? He honestly didn't know what he'd expected to get out of a trip to her apartment tonight (well, he had an idea), but it wasn't this. This predatory, playful, almost arrogantly confident Ziva should have been turning his nerves up to unbearable levels. Instead he found that her attitude was making the whole surreal situation easier to deal with, and it was so much easier to play along.

"Did you come up with anything?"

A slow smile stretched her lips and sent a shiver sunning down his spine. "Perhaps."

"And what's that?" He was beginning to get into the rhythm of this. Flirting: this was his wheelhouse.

She didn't answer his question. It was a teasing move she was making a habit of and that heightened the tension between them. Tony decided that he really liked this side of her.

"Are you going to take off your jacket?" she asked.

He couldn't resist teasing her a little in return. "I don't know. Depends on how long I'm staying."

She smiled in approval but kept control of the conversation. "Take off your jacket, Tony."

He paused for just a moment before taking a step into her bedroom and sliding his jacket off his shoulders. He dropped it onto the chair she kept beside the door and looked back at her in time to catch the little shiver that made her shoulders shudder.

"And your shoes," she instructed.

He toed off his shoes and then bent to take off his socks. He swept them under the chair with his foot and awaited her next instruction.

"Your t-shirt," she directed.

He hesitated for just a moment as things took a turn towards serious, but then lifted his t-shirt over his head and dropped it on top of his jacket. He watched her catch her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes swept over his naked chest, and he smirked at the thought that he was getting to her as much as she was getting to him.

"I'm not blushing," he baited on a shot of confidence.

He watched her hand press against her stomach, much like it had earlier in the bullpen when she was caught up thinking about…whatever she'd been thinking about. Making him blush, apparently.

"Take off your jeans."

He was reaching for his belt before she'd even finished speaking, and his jeans joined the rest of his clothes on the chair. He stood before her in his boxers with complete lack of shame and cocked an eyebrow in challenge of her next command.

Ziva chuckled briefly and then waved him over with two fingers. "Come here."

It occurred to him that she could have been beckoning him closer with a gun in her hand, but if she used that tone of voice, Tony would approach her willingly. He took three steps as she got onto her hands and knees, switched on a lamp and then and crawled to the edge of the bed. The extra light allowed him to see her properly, and the arch in her spine made him want to moan. She sat on her heels and placed her hands on her thighs as he stood in front of her.

"Now what?" he asked.

He watched her pink lips turns upwards, and she reached out to rub the fabric of his boxers between her thumb and forefinger. "Take these off."

His cock jumped, but somehow he managed to think with the head on top of his shoulders as his confidence from seconds ago dimmed once more and his nerves flared. On the one hand here was Ziva, crouched in front of him, stripping him down, making him hard just with her voice and clearly offering what he'd wanted for so long. On the other…this changed everything. They'd be kidding themselves if they thought it wouldn't. Even if this was a one-time thing, there was no turning back.

Protection of the fantasy or indulgence in reality?

He swallowed hard and forced a smile as his head started to spin with taboos and consequences. "What parallel universe are you in right now where this happens?" he had to ask.

Ziva didn't flinch at the question, and he didn't detect even the slightest bit of hesitation within her. He understood why when she gave her very confident reply. "The one where I tell you to take off your clothes and you do it with a smile."

He had to admit she had a point. And she'd made it very clear that she didn't care that there was no turning back from this. Hadn't he decided that as well the second he got out of the car? And again when he unlocked her front door? And when he started taking off his clothes?

He took a deep breath as the rollercoaster of indecision inside him finally hit a straight, and then committed to this parallel universe. His forced smile turned natural again as DiNozzo confidence returned.

"Why do I have to undress while you're still clothed?"

Ziva's head fell just slightly to the side in the barest admonishment of his attempt at teasing. Her response was to reach for the hem of her tank top and strip it off. She tossed the fabric somewhere behind him, but Tony was hardly interested in where. The only thing he was interested in right now was that the prefect, naked breasts he dreamed about almost every night of the week were just inches from his hands.

"Better?" she asked.

It took him a few seconds to find the resolve to rip his gaze from her chest and look her in the eye. Her found her giving him that dark, lusty stare he'd always fantasized about, and that was all it took. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her up towards him until her naked chest pressed against his. Her fingertips found the sensitive skin above his hips as she steadied herself, and the touch sent tingles of unbearable desire shooting though his lower body. He sucked in a breath and dipped his head towards hers, and Ziva—beautiful, wanton, torturous Ziva—allowed his lips to brush against hers for barely a moment before she pulled away with a teasing smile and hooked one finger into the waistband of his boxers.

"Come here," she said again, and if it weren't for the sight of the soft skin on her neck fluttering with her racing pulse, Tony would have sworn she was completely in control of herself. As it turned out, she was about as cool under the surface as he was.

Forgetting that she'd asked him to strip completely just moments ago, Tony leaned into her as he put a knee on the bed. Ziva shuffled backwards to give him space to join her and he ended up lying on his back and looking up at her approving smile. Impatient to get the first charged kiss out of the way, he reached for her arm to pull her closer. But Ziva was already moving. With a wolfish smile that almost made him whimper, she swung her leg across his hips and braced her hands by his shoulders. Her arched spine sent her ass into the air and her hair spilling over her shoulders to brush against his cheeks, and she lowered her face towards his while remaining frustratingly out of reach.

"I have a theory," she told him, and the rasp in her voice sent another bolt of desire through him. "About what it might take to make you blush. Would you mind if I tested it?"

Tony couldn't help his chuckle, and couldn't stop his hands from lifting to grip her hips. "Do I get to try to make you blush afterwards?"

Ziva barely narrowed her eyes and then shook her head. The ends of her hair tickled his shoulders. "I do not blush."

He smiled wide and ran the index finger of one hand over her hip to her belly and up the centre of her chest. "That can't be true."

She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, and Tony reminded himself not to argue with the unbelievably sexy, half-naked woman leaning over him and getting ready to make him very, very happy.

"Forget it," he said quickly. "I believe you."

"You are very agreeable when you are naked," she noted.

Tony nodded. "Yes."

She smirked. "I am going to test my theory now."

Tony nodded again. "Sure. Go for it."

She hovered over him for a few more moments, and Tony tried to read her expression. Enjoyment, curiosity and confidence were definitely there, but the overriding expression was one of open desire. Desire for him. His cock strained and his heart thudded hard, and his eyes fell to her mouth hovering tantalizingly close to him. Jesus, would she just kiss him already? His tongue darted out to wet his lips in anticipation of contact, but instead of lowering her lips and body Ziva shifted to the side and lay down on the mattress beside him.

Puzzled, Tony looked across the pillow at her as Ziva propped herself up on her elbow and watched him with her Mona Lisa smile.

"Are you just going to look at me?" Tony asked, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to make her mad now. "Because you do that every day and I'm pretty sure I don't blush."

Displaying impressive patience, Ziva just looked him up and down and refrained from clamping her hand over his mouth. "Close your eyes."

He shot her a soft frown. "What?"

Her eyes met his briefly before they continued a lazy path across his body. "Close your eyes," she repeated with a little more of an edge to her tone.

Tony's eyes disobeyed, and instead took their cue from hers as he stared at the small, sexy curve of her belly and the soft breasts he couldn't wait to—


He didn't pull his eyes away from perfection. "Mhmm?"

"You are suddenly less agreeable."

His hand on the mattress was resting right beside the juncture of her thighs. He lifted his fingers and brushed them against her skin, but before they reached their destination Ziva's hand came down on his and pressed it back into the mattress.

"Tony," she said on a sigh that he was well acquainted with. She was losing patience and he had to fall into line. "Close your eyes and trust that you will enjoy what I'm about to do to you."

Wise words, he thought, and he finally did what he was told. He closed his eyes and put himself in her hands. "Are you going to tell me what you were thinking about tonight that got you breathing so hard and made your mouth do that thing?"

He felt her move beside him, and then she touched his forearm as light as a feather. "What thing?" she asked, dropping her voice to barely above a whisper.

He followed her lead. "The almost pouty thing you do," he replied softly.

She drew her fingertips slowly up his arm, barely touching him. "Maybe."


Her hand made it to his shoulder. "It will make you blush too soon."

Tony snorted, doubting that her mind could be more depraved than his.

"Do you pay a lot of attention to my mouth?" she asked almost against his ear.

Tony grinned like the kid caught with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "Yes," he admitted as her hand skimmed across his collarbones and to his other shoulder.

"Doing what?"

"Agreeing with me." His smile dropped as soon as she pinched his shoulder, and his eyes flew open. "Ow!"

Ziva leaned in until her mouth was right above his. "I suggest you stop talking," she warned in that tone that sent shivers down his spine. "And close your eyes."

Once again Tony did as he was told. He closed his eyes and listened to what sounded like her hair flicking against the pillow and the slide of her legs against each other before her hand touched him again. It was the same feather-light touch from before, starting on the back of his right hand and sliding slowly up over his wrist, his forearm, the inside of his elbow, his triceps and over his shoulder. The touch skimmed along his shoulder towards his neck before swooping down and across his collarbones to his other shoulder and running down his left arm to his hand.

It wasn't an unpleasant touch, but the unexpected softness of it made the corner of Tony's mouth pull back. As Ziva's hand skimmed up his arm again and dipped across his pecs, she spoke against his ear.

"If you smirk, Tony," she purred, "you will not relax."

He kept his eyes closed but frowned. "You want me relaxed?" That wasn't exactly what he thought her ultimate goal was.

Her hand slid down one side of his torso and back up again. "No, I want you sensitive," she replied.

"I can be very sensitive."

"Shh," she compelled, and Tony warned himself one more time to shut the hell up and do what he was told.

Her fingers trailed down the centre of his chest and over his belly, and she scraped her nails very gently against the sensitive skin above the waistband of his boxers. Tony twitched and inhaled, and tingles spread across his belly as her hand skimmed upwards again.

She kept the touch going for long, drawn out minutes, skimming her hand feather light across his body. His arms, his shoulders, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his thighs, over and over. Her hand never took the same path, making anticipation impossible and exciting the hell out of him. He didn't think the ghosting strokes would turn him on, but after a few minutes of nothing but the unexpected intimacy of the touch, the sound of their breathing and the smell of her in the air, Tony was filing the foreplay away for future use. If she wanted his body sensitive, mission accomplished. She discovered parts of his body that he'd never known were sensitive, like right about his left hip bone and dead centre between his pecs, and she both exploited and ignored them just to make him shudder. His skin started getting so desperate for contact that it rose into gooseflesh just to close the gap between them. And every now and then her fingernails would scrape against his skin and send a shock of electricity through him that made every hair on his body stand on end.

He could have laid there for hours under nothing more than her hand and it still would have blown his mind. But when her fingernails started gently scraping up his inner thigh and her lips joined the exploration of his body, he decided that changing things up wasn't so bad. When her mouth grazed along his collarbone, he gasped at the intense wave of tingles that flooded him. Her hand started its downward stroke again as her mouth traveled all the way across to his right shoulder, and her hair falling across his chest drew a fresh set of goosebumps from his skin. Her hand slid up his thigh again and started veering towards the point that he desperately wanted it, and as the touch got higher and higher Tony started thinking that yes, finally, this was the stroke that was going to hit the mark. He held his breath as the tickle of her hair, the warmth of her mouth and the scrape of her nails made him shudder in anticipation, but when her hand barely skimmed over the painful bulge in his boxers before moving away, he could have cried. Instead, he moaned.

"Ziv…" he started, but could say no more.

Her hand stroked up his chest again and he despaired that she was taking him back to the beginning, but then he felt her weight shift on the bed and soon her knees were bracketing his hips. He couldn't help lifting his hands and running them up the backs of her thighs as she kneeled over him, and to his surprise she didn't tell him to stop it.

Both her hands left his body then, and he felt her press them into the mattress on either side of his head. His brain supplied the commentary that it meant she was hovering over him on all fours now, and he let out another involuntary groan. In the next moment, her hair brushed over his face and then down his shoulder and arm, and her lips touched his right wrist. And then, as he was wracking his brains trying to work out what she was going to do next, the woman he'd built countless sexual fantasies around started to talk.

"I love your arms," she said softly, before running her lips and tongue along the inside of his forearm and up to his bicep. "I love it when you roll up your shirtsleeves and I can see the muscles in your forearms." She started pressing soft, warm kisses against his skin, and although he'd come to love the feeing of her hand skimming over him, this was ten times better. "I love your shoulders." She pressed more wet kisses against him. "You should wear your shoulder holster more, Tony."

Tony swallowed hard. "Okay," he tried to say, but his voice failed him. Jesus, in addition to feeling pretty damn amazing, this was turning out to be the world's greatest ego boost.

The top of her head bushed against his jaw as she kissed her way softly across the line of his collarbones and then started heading south. "I love your chest," she said against him. "I love those moments when you press against my back at work. I love pressing my hand against you and teasing you to see what kind of reaction I can get."

His fantasy of taking her at her desk filled his head again, and Tony let out a moan. He had a feeling that dream was about to get much, much better. Maybe the next time they were there alone in the dead of night he'd have to see if reality actually did stack up to fantasy.

Her mouth went lower and her hair brushed down his sensitized chest. She kissed him softly all over his stomach and belly, and then moved out to his hipbones. Tony jumped at the extra sensitivity when she licked along his V-muscle, and then groaned when she stopped at the barrier of his boxers.

"Sometimes I get the urge to lick you from belly to chest," she purred, and then to Tony's delight she did just that. The soft weight of her breasts followed her tongue and his fingers slipped under the elastic of her panties to squeeze her hips. "Remember when you changed your shirt in the office and I asked you to take the wrap for the accident I caused?"

Tony thought he might have grunted 'yes'. It was hard to tell what he was doing when he was so focused on what her mouth was up to.

"If we hadn't been interrupted," she began, and then let her tongue finish the sentence with another lick from belly to chest.

Tingles radiated out from the wet line on his skin and he flushed all over. Jesus, just the thought of her touching him like that at the office…He was never going to get any work done ever again. Never.

Her hair and fingertips trailed down his chest again and he felt her weight shift backwards towards his shins. His cock strained against the material of his boxers as her felt heat pass over him, as if it was trying to get her attention. Damn it, he should have stripped when she told him to. But he hadn't, and Ziva again passed over the spot that was so desperate for attention. When her mouth touched him again it was at the top of his right thigh.

"You smell good here," she told him before her tongue darted out to lick him.

He sighed and ran his hands over her shoulder blades and up into her hair. He bunched the dark strands gently in his fists and used all his remaining control not to pull her head just those last few inches to the left.

"Musky," she went on. "Sometimes, Tony, just the smell of you is enough to make me wet."

"Oh, my God," he ground out. Was she trying to make him come just from this? His once roomy boxers now felt as tight as skinny jeans and were causing just as much pain. He should've expected that Ziva would inflict a little torture with her pleasure

She moved up again and licked along the ultra sensitive and thin skin right above the waist of his boxers. It seemed to Tony like she was heading north again, and this time he couldn't hold onto his protest.

"I think you missed a spot."

He felt her smile against his stomach. "No, I didn't," she purred before dropping her head again and rubbing her cheek against his cock. He hissed at the contact he'd been dying for and tightened his hands in her hair.

When she spoke again the heat from her mouth was right against him and it brought tears to his eyes.

"These look uncomfortable," she said, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers. "Can I take them off you yet, or would you prefer—"

"Off," he growled.

He heard her throaty chuckle before she lifted the waistband and gently peeled his boxers back and over his hard on. He lifted his hips to help her and Ziva drew them down his legs and off him before settling herself between his thighs. She ran her hands up his legs to his stomach and back down again with a much firmer touch than before and then gripped the base of his cock in her fist. Somehow, despite everything leading up to this, the touch still came as a surprise that made Tony jump.

"Tony," she called. "Look at me."

Jesus, were his eyes still closed? They popped open at her command and he was greeted by the sight of Ziva looking up at him, her eyes liquid and predatory and her pink lips parted as they hovered over his cock. Best. Visual. Ever.

Those pink lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. "You are blushing," she told him.

It took him a moment to work out why the hell that was relevant, but when he caught on he certainly believed her. His cheeks were burning as hot as the rest of his body and he could feel sweat prickling on the back of his neck. His fingers curled tighter into her hair as her breath tickled the underside of his cock, and he took a deep breath as he struggled to reply instead of thrusting up into her mouth.

He closed his eyes briefly and cleared his throat. "Well, you're staring," he explained.

The slow smile that stretched her lips brought one thought to his mind: the cat that ate the canary. She clearly had the upper hand here, but Tony was more than happy for her to keep it as long as she followed through on what her eyes and lips promised.

"Looks good on you," Ziva said, and then started to lower her head. But before she could do little more than brush his head with her lip, Tony was overcome by a moment of romantic insanity and stopped her.

"No, wait," he panted.

Ziva paused her decent as her eyebrows went sky high. "What?" she asked, her control of herself slipping for the first time that night.

He gripped her wrist and pulled her towards him. "I need to kiss you first. Please, come here. I want to kiss you." Call him traditional, but there was an order to these things, right? You kissed, then you touched, then you got on to the other stuff. Things were already out of order, and maybe if it were anyone else he wouldn't have cared. But it was Ziva, and his feelings for her went deeper than an unexpected blowjob. He was connected to her and he wanted to give her something, even if it was just a kiss, before she gave him a hell of a lot.

Tony thought she might've understood that when her eyes softened into an expression that was more love than desire, and then crawled up his body. She hovered above him for a moment, holding his gaze as his hands cupped her face, and then lowered her body onto his and kissed him.

He wasn't prepared for the explosion of emotion that the touch of her mouth on his brought. His chest ached with want and devotion to her and his ears buzzed, and Jesus, he may have even let out a sob. But it had just been so goddamn long since he kissed her last. He'd always wanted a second chance (and third and fourth and infinity plus one) but he honestly hadn't realized how much until right now. He kissed her with all the hunger and longing that had been growing since they'd played sexed-up husband and wife all those years ago and flicked her lips with his tongue in request before pushing it into her mouth possessively. He instinctively found the rhythm that had served them so well back then and started stroking against her in the way that had made the undercover professional decidedly weak in the knees. Sure enough, Ziva whimpered into his mouth and wriggled her hips against him as she poured herself into the kiss, and Tony spent the next few minutes mindlessly indulging in the feeling of Ziva's hot, grinding weight on him and her increasingly insistent and demanding lips.

When her thigh brushed his cock he murmured an obscenity against her lips as he fought the almost overwhelming urge to roll her under him and bury himself inside her. Despite his insistence on a kiss, Ziva was still in control of all this and he doubted she'd take kindly to him suddenly seizing power. He grounded himself by running a hand down her back and sliding his fingers into her panties to grip her ass, and Ziva groaned before pulling her mouth from his.

They panted against each other as they met eyes again, and by God, Tony knew he was kind of in love with her before but now he felt himself falling completely. Ziva gave him a smile that struck him as almost shy before moving in to nuzzle his cheek and hiding her expression. It didn't matter. He'd seen it. He knew what it meant.

"You are getting emotional when you are supposed to be getting passionate," she gently accused against his ear, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He ran his hand all the way along her arm until he could grip her hand. "Passion is an emotion," he pointed out breathlessly.

He felt the jolt of her body as she chuckled. "Then you are getting emotional when I am trying to make you mindless."

Tony shrugged and kissed her neck. "I'm complex. I can be both."

She pulled her head back to smile fully at him with what appeared to be some of the same emotion he was feeling and then leaned in to kiss him again. She untangled her fingers from his and ran her hand down his chest, and in the next moment her fingertips were stroking his shaft again. Tony gasped as lust took over again and shot through him, and Ziva gently nipped his bottom lip before sliding down his body once again. She settled into the position she was in before his sudden need for romance, crouched between his legs with his cock in her hand and her lips hovering by his head.

Ziva tilted her head to the side and shot him a smirk that made him shiver. "Any last words?" she asked.

Tony was sure that was the most ominous, exciting, terrifying and awesome thing she'd ever said to him. "Oh, my God," he laughed nervously.

She winked at him. "Noted," she replied, and held his gaze as her perfectly pink lips parted and finally wrapped around the head of his cock.

In the next second Tony was sure his heart stopped. His head dug back into the pillow as a hiss escaped his lips, and he couldn't control the little jerk of his hips as Ziva's lips slowly ran down, down, down his shaft and she engulfed as much of him as she could. The wetness of her mouth closing in on him and the roughness of her tongue on his extremely sensitive skin sent white-hot pleasure shooting through every vein in his body and brought tears to the backs of his eyes.

Oh my God…

He looked down again to savor the view of his thick cock disappearing between her lips, and his breath caught when he found her still looking up at him. Every nerve ending in his body reacted and he shuddered violently under her gaze. His hands instinctively reached for her head to push her down further on him, but he caught himself before he made the suicidal move and dropped them onto her shoulders. Ziva flipped her hair over to one side and gave him a 'good choice' wink, but then gave him what he wanted anyway. After a deep breath, she slowly slid her mouth all the way down his shaft until he was buried to the hilt and his head was in her throat. His fingers dug into her shoulders as a wave of pleasure smashed into his body and he cried out to the ceiling. She held him there until her throat closed and she ran out of breath, and he slipped out of her mouth with a wet smack.

Ziva worked him with her fist as she sucked in air and recovered. "Okay?" she checked, as if she expected him to politely ask her to stop deep-throating him.

"Amazing," he replied roughly.

She smiled with satisfaction before she cupped his balls and went down on him again, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She started bobbing on him, her hand following the path of her mouth as she sucked, and then she ran her tongue down his shaft until she hit his balls. She pumped him with her fist as her lips and tongue worked her way around his sac, and then she sucked his balls into her mouth. The heat and wetness encasing him sent burning tingles all through his groin and stomach, and he felt his balls get tighter and tighter as they got heavier with come waiting to be released.

He breathed out either a prayer or a curse as Ziva replaced her mouth with her hand and ran her tongue up the underside of his cock. When she got to the head, she zeroed in on the tiny patch of nerves right under the hood and flicked the tip of her tongue up and down on it, over and over while she watched his reaction with heavy, hungry eyes.

"God, yes!" he said raggedly as his hands gripped her head and held her right there.

Ziva paused for just a moment to chuckle huskily at his obvious enjoyment before closing her lips around him once more and sucking on his head. Just like before she held his gaze as she moved her mouth on him, but instead of bobbing up and down she started a slow, rolling, fluid rhythm that had him transfixed. She kept going for long minutes, swiveling her head, tonguing and stroking his shaft and playing with his balls while he gasped and sighed and moaned her name. And all the while, she kept her eyes on his face.

Maybe it was a chauvinistic thing to think while his dick was in her mouth, but with the way she was looking at him and the rolling of her head and shoulders, Tony couldn't help but think that she looked beautiful right now. He pushed her hair back and held it against her head with one hand as he ran his fingers over her face with the other. Ziva let his cock pop out of her mouth and turned her head to kiss then suck his fingertips before bobbing down to suck his balls again. This time she hummed against him, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he groaned her name.

Jesus Christ, if he thought she was amazing before…

His dick felt as hard as steel and his balls painfully tight as Ziva engulfed him again, and he started moaning and grunting as he felt himself get closer to release. She returned to sucking on his head and stroking the top of his shaft with her fingers, and that was a move that would get him off 100 per cent of the time, no question. He wasn't going to last much longer…

"Stop, I'm gonna come," he panted.

Ziva responded by sucking harder and quickening her strokes.


She 'mhmm'ed around his cock, sending delicious vibrations through him.

He ran greedy hands through her hair. "I'm gonna come," he repeated, trying to warn her again.

Ziva looked up at him, all hollowed cheeks and pink lips and then, dear sweet God, winked at him in acknowledgement. She stroked his painful balls and increased the pressure around his cock just that little bit more, and Tony couldn't hold back any longer. He shot into her mouth with a roar, his hands fisting her hair as his hips arced and his body caught fire. Her fingers kept stroking, milking every drop into her mouth as liquid ecstasy ran through his veins and the blood rushing through his ears momentarily deafened him. His vision cleared in time to see her lift her lips from his cock long enough to swallow before she took him in her mouth again and licked up the come that had spilled from her lips.

"Oh, my God," he moaned.

Ziva grinned back at him as she continued to very gently stroke his cock. "I told you that you would enjoy it."

He couldn't recall that conversation but he wasn't going to argue. His hands left her hair and he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. "Come here."

She gave his shaft a final lick and then crawled up his body and lay down on top of him. Tony smashed his mouth against hers and licked the taste of himself from her lips and tongue before rolling them on the bed and covering her body with his. Ziva's arms tightened around his back as he kissed her hungrily, and she thrust her hips up into his. He had no doubt what she wanted, and he had plans to fuck her until she screamed before the night was through. But he was going to need a few minutes (or possibly more than a few) of recovery time. For now, that was fine by him. It'd give him time to explore her like she'd been able to explore him.

"Is that what you were thinking about in the bullpen tonight?" he panted against her.

Ziva's smile was sultry and just a little teasing as she ran her fingers through his hair, scratchy lightly. "No. That was what I was thinking about in the shower this morning."

He kissed her again and ran a heavy hand down her body to cup her breast. "I want to know what you were thinking about."

She gasped as his fingers found her nipple. "I think we will play that out soon."

"Act it out," he said into the burning hot skin of her throat.

Ziva let out a squeal of frustration at him correcting her. "Shut up!" she cried. "What does it matter?"

She had a point. "Sorry," he said, and slid lower to lick her other breast.

She gasped again and directed his head with her hands like he'd done to her. "Yes!"

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and ran his hand down her belly to her hip. He made a surprised noise upon discovering that her panties were still on, but quickly moved to get rid of them. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and lifted his hips off her so that he could roughly pull them down and out of the way. Ziva kicked them the rest of the way off her legs, and Tony ran his hand up the inside of her thigh until he cupped her heat. Ziva yelped from above him and bit out a word Tony had never heard but which he was sure was a profanity. His own profanity was muffled against her breast. Not only was she burning hot in his hand, but she was absolutely soaking wet.

"Ziva," he groaned, and pushed two fingers inside her without the slightest hint of resistant.

Ziva cried out and her hips bucked, but you could have knocked him over with a feather when she reached down and pulled his hand away from her.

"No, stop," she almost whimpered. "I'm too close. I don't want to come."

Tony lifted his head from her breast and started at her like she was crazy. "You don't want to come?" he repeated dumbly.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and he got the feeling she was trying to find her resolve. "Yes," she pushed out as she opened her eyes. "But with you inside me. Not yet."

He groaned and turned his face back to her breast. Christ, one way or another that mouth of hers was going to give him a heart attack. If she kept talking to him like that and sucking him like that…And the idea that she was so hot and dripping wet and ready to come from just from going down on him…Yes, it was a foregone conclusion. Tony had seen his death and he was right; Ziva was going to be behind it. Just not in the way he'd always assumed.

And yet, like the fool he was, Tony ran towards his fate. He kissed his way down her stomach, and although he would have dearly liked to have displayed the same patience and restraint that she had when exploring his body, Tony didn't have it in him right now. His hands and mouth were demanding on her skin, but her moans and hands on his head assured him she didn't mind. They didn't need to go back to square one, even if she did need time to calm down, and if Tony did need time to recover.

He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and rested it heavily in the crease of her leg. Even there she was hot and damp, and when he took a deep breath the scent of her arousal was enough to make his cock stir again. He pressed his face into her belly as he took another deep breath and tightened his hand on her leg, and then groaned against her as a shiver ran down his spine. Maybe she'd let him have just a little taste…

He dripped his head lower and pushed against her thigh to open her legs wider.

"Tony," she sighed, but he couldn't tell if she was warning him or begging him. The latter suited his own purposes, so he took another lungful of her scent before pressing his mouth to her pussy and giving her a long, slow lick.

Ziva's hips arched off the bed as she cried out, but Tony stayed with her. His head buzzed and his cock throbbed as he licked up the wetness on her lips, and God, she tasted so good he would have stayed at it all day. But it appeared that Ziva had been serious when she said she didn't want to come yet, and Tony should have been more mindful of going against her wishes when her very strong hand was twined into his hair like that.

"Tony," she gritted out, yanking his hair hard to make him look up at her. She locked onto him with eyes that were black with lust and warning. "At some point, I will insist that you spend a significant amount of time doing that, and I am sure I will love every second. But not now. I made it clear what I want now."

"Okay," he wheezed painfully.

Ziva let go of his hair and Tony's mouth returned to her breasts. A confession of hers from earlier stuck in his head, and he glanced up at her with a cocky smile.

"You think you want to lick me at work?" he questioned.

"I know I do."

He shook his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth before letting it slip out. "You don't have a clue what I want to do to you."

Ziva hooked one of her legs around his hip and sighed. "If I am reading the expression on your face correctly I believe it has something to do with strangulation."

He chuckled into the swell of her breast. "Sometimes," he allowed. "But mostly I just want to touch you. I never get to touch you. But God, you're beautiful. I want to touch you all the time." His mouth and hand traveled around her body as he talked. "I want to kiss your neck and grip your hips. I want to stand behind you in the viewing room and run my hands over every part of you. I want to press you into the wall in the elevator and kiss you deeply. I want to do things to you that will make you blush."

Ziva's hips bucked against him as her breathing became ragged. He didn't feel her hand move, but in the next moment her fist was wrapped around his half hard cock and she started stroking him impatiently.

"I do not blush," she reminded him.

"I'll make you."

Ziva chuckled. "You want to do all that?"

"That just scratches the surface," he told her, thrusting into her hand as tingles started spreading through his belly and down his spine once more. He willed himself to get there faster for her. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but he filled his head with thoughts of how amazing it would feel to be moving inside her. About how good hearing her cry his name would sound. About how delicious she tasted and how he couldn't wait for more. He focused on the smell of her and the softness and heat of her skin under his heavy hands, and the sound of her gasps and moans as he trailed his mouth across her body. A proud and possessive thought entered his head the he was responsible for doing this to her. His hands, his mouth, his body was turning his usually controlled partner into this disheveled, wanton goddess. He was the one who was going to make her scream and shake and fall apart tonight, and damn it, he was determined to be the one doing it to her for the rest of her life.

Soon he found himself at the tipping point again and moved up her body to catch her lips again in a deep, drugging kiss. He pulled her hand away from his cock and held it tightly in his as he pulled his head back to gaze down at her. Ziva looked up at him, and he watched utter pleasure fill her eyes as he bucked his hips and then pushed inside her all the way to the hilt. Tight, wet, burning heat clamped down on him and he let out a strangled cry as ecstasy engulfed him. A torrent of endorphins rushed through him as his hips started moving of their own accord and the sharp sting of Ziva's nails in his back only urged him to move faster.

"God! Please!" Ziva cried, snapping her hips up to meet his. "More!"

He reached down to hook his arm under her knee and lifted her leg higher and he thrust even deeper inside her. She was so wet that her body put up no resistance, and when his thrusts started getting harder and harder she didn't even wince. On the contrary, she pushed her hands hard into the small of his back and screamed out an affirmation that got him even harder inside her. He brought his mouth down on hers for a hard, desperate kiss and for a moment he indulged in the feeling of being completely fused with her and sharing this bliss. God knew they'd waited long enough.

He broke the kiss when his need for oxygen outstripped his crazed lust, and Ziva took him by surprise when she threw her weight up and rolled them so that she was on top of him. He practically whimpered when his cock slipped out of her but she didn't make him suffer for long. Ziva sat up straight and braced one hand on his chest as the other gripped his cock and guided it back inside her. He gripped her hips tightly as she dropped down on him with a dreamy smile and then started to ride him. With both hands on his chest now, she leaned forward just a little and the new angle created even better friction. The bottom of his spine burned with intense pleasure and he thrust his hips up hard as Ziva dropped down.

"Oh, God," she panted. "So good!"

Understatement, he thought, but he wasn't going to argue semantics right now.

His eyes feasted on her, from her luscious dark curls dancing around her shoulders, her pleasure-soaked expression, her perfect round breasts, her lightly muscled stomach, her soft and golden skin and all the way down to her slick, bright red lips. She was perfection. She was his perfection.

"God, you're so beautiful," he rasped.

She seemed to smirk briefly before squeezing her muscles around his cock. His fingers dug harder into her hips as he held on for dear life, and he idly wondered if he was going to leave her slightly bruised. He thought she might forgive him for it.

He kept watching her as she rode him, letting his eyes run all over her as his hands cupped her breasts. Every few seconds he let his eyes drop to take in the sight of his angry red cock covered in her wetness stab between those luscious lips, but it was such a turn on he could only indulge for a second or two. Any longer and he'd blow, and he was already struggling to hold on. It went without saying that she had to get there before him.

Fortunately that moment didn't seem to be that far away. Ziva's moves were getting shorter and faster, and her cries were getting higher and louder. She stopped moving up and down in favor of rolling her hips around on him and trying to grind her clitoris into his public bone, and he swore to God she got even hotter and wetter.

She started chanting his name in time with the snapping of her hips, and Tony figured she only had a few seconds to go. Without warning, he lifted her off him and flipped her onto her back on the mattress. He was already half on top of her before she registered what he'd done.

"What the hell…" she started furiously, but got no further before he covered her completely and slammed his cock inside her again. Her protest turned into a scream and her hips arched sharply into his. As her arms came around his shoulders in a vice grip Tony snaked a hand between them and pressed his thumb to her clitoris. She screamed again and squeezed his cock with all her strength as her whole body started to shudder, but Tony kept slamming into her until she went completely rigid and then jerked as if she'd been hit with 10,000 volts.

His name being screamed into his ear could have ruptured his eardrum, but frankly Tony was more concerned with the unbearable pressure in his groin that was desperate for release. Ziva's internal muscles were convulsing around his cock, urging him to let go, and after a few more thrusts he was hit with a tidal wave of bliss as he emptied himself into her. The euphoric fire shot through his limbs again and he felt momentarily light-headed until he realized he'd been holding his breath for far too long. He gasped for air right before collapsing on top of her.

How could anything that felt that good possibly be legal?

For a few moments he didn't move. He just lay on top of her and listened to his heart pounding as he drew in lungfuls of air. Ziva's arms were still tight around him and one leg was still crossed behind his back, and her muscles were still cramping around his spent cock. But she wasn't trying to move him off her. It seemed that for the moment she was content with his dead weight on her.

When feeling returned to his arms, Tony lifted his hand to put it on her hip and slide it up and over the curve of her waist to settle on her ribcage. He nuzzled around her neck, pausing over her racing pulse to brush his lips back and forth and give her a soft, sucking kiss before lifting his head to look down at her. She blinked up at him slowly with a sated smile on her swollen lips and her hair a dark, tangled mess across the pillow. There was a fine sheen of sweat across her brow and she was breathing hard, and Tony thought she'd never looked hotter.

He ran a fingertip across her cheekbone. "You're blushing," he told her.

Her smile turned into a challenging pout. "I do not blush," she insisted with a sigh. "I am flushed."

Tony smiled at her forced petulance. "Fine, I don't care what it is. It looks good on you."

He dipped his head to kiss her, and they indulged in each other for a few moments before he pulled back again to look down at her. As her hands stroked lazily up and down his back Tony trailed his fingertips over her face. Warmth started spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with wanting to go another round (well, maybe a little), and although he sensed that now wasn't the time, he just couldn't help himself.

"I'm feeling a bit emotional again," he warned her.

Ziva cocked her head to the side and graced him with an affectionate look. She put a finger to his lips. "I know."

He kissed her finger. "I might say some things—"

Ziva removed her finger and replaced it with her lips, silencing whatever 'things' were about to come out of his mouth. "I know," she repeated. "But can we hold on to those things for just a little while? One step at a time, yes?"

He sighed at her insistence on being right. "Okay," he agreed, and then rolled off her onto his side. Ziva rolled to face him and they snuggled in against each other. His body felt like rubber but his heart felt light, and he hoped they could just lie here together for a little while before…well, more sex would be awesome.

"Are you ever going to tell me what you were thinking about tonight that made your mouth do that thing?"

She gave him a coy smile and her eyes flicked down over his body. "I was just thinking of a little fantasy I have."

Tony lifted his eyebrows as his interest piqued. "Feel free to share."

Ziva ran her finger down his chest as she weighed it up and then shrugged. "All right. It involves a case in the woods, a hot and cranky Tony, and a tent."

That's it. The end. We're done. Over. No more chapters to follow. Madame Smut Doyen is spent.
Thanks to all who remained interested. And a huge thanks for the insane number of reviews, favorites and story alerts for chapter one. I hope this belated follow up met your expectations.