Just a silly little drabble written to ease the mind of a worried girl.
Dedicated: To Jes :] I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Do the birds fly south in the Winter? Yes. Do dried grapes make Raisins? Yes, again. Do I own NCIS? ... no. Damn, I was really hoping to psych you out.
Summary: There was something about the way her accent deepened when she was aroused that got to him. It made him downright hard and wanting more of everything she offered him. There was just something about Ziva altogether that made him come undone.
ACCENTED:
Tony was never one of those guys who needed a woman to have an accent for him to go out with her (really anything worked for him), because to him it didn't matter how they sounded, it was all about how they looked that got him going (okay, that seemed horrible, but it wasn't. Honest).
All of that was before Ziva though (he is pretty sure he has been ruined for all other women). Ziva was an anomaly (for lack of a better term), there was so much about her that called to him (so pretty much everything about her screamed to him), and he just had to have her (we are talking life or death).
When he finally did have her (was there ever any doubt?), he just couldn't get enough of her. They fit together perfectly, balanced each other out, and complemented one another like no other could. He liked to believe it was cause they were soul mates (yeah, he believed in that sort of thing. And yeah, once upon a time he lied. He knows he can be stupid sometimes).
Ziva had a ton of these little quirks that drove him absolutely wild (in the best of ways), and he sincerely doubted that she knew about even half of them. If she had known about them he was sure she would make sure to do them more often because she loved to tease him (it was her new favorite hobby).
The very first one that he had noticed was her hair. He always knew that she had beautiful hair, he would give just about anything to touch it (seriously, anything. You just name the price). The special thing about her hair that drew his attention was the way she pulled it back. She had this technique that would cause tingles to course along his insides (and cause his breathing to pick up its pace). She would slowly pull her fingers through until she reached the ends, catching small pieces and twisting them back until all of her hair rested at the back of her head in an artfully crafted bun. This wasn't like any other bun he had seen, oh no, this one was complete with twists and braids (it looked professional), and it took her no less than thirty seconds to complete this fancy twists (thirty blissful seconds that showed him just how talented she was with her hands).
He loved when she wore her hair down for many reasons. One of those reasons was because it showed how comfortable and relaxed she was. Another one was because it framed her face so beautifully, and if he got close enough to her the ends of her hair would slowly trickle across the bare length of his arm (he liked it best when the ends swept over his bare body). Finally, he loved it when she wore her hair down to work because that meant that at some point she would be tying it back, and he just loved to see her talented fingers go to work dancing, twisting, and flecking in such gentle caresses (seriously, it was better than football).
Another trait that he found oddly endearing (and undeniably sexy) was her little habit of biting at the length of her fingers. He had only begun to notice it recently (had she always done that?), and he wondered what had prompted such actions. She seemed to bring her fingers to her lips whenever she got nervous (he wished she would bring his fingers to her lips). There were moments where she would bring them to her lips when she wasn't nervous, and he wondered if she just liked the taste of her silken digits (he wanted to taste them).
There was also another thing that she had started doing recently that he enjoyed (who was he kidding? He loved it). She would gently stroke his arm whenever they were discussing things in length, or she was sure no one was watching (she only ever did it to him. That thought made him much happier than it should). The feeling of her hands running along his forearms was like something he couldn't even describe (he's tried, and the words just won't come). She kneaded the muscles that lay there with such precision that he found himself wondering if she has ever gone undercover as a masseuse (if she hasn't she should. She's got skills). All she has to do is caress his arm and he turns into putty (he's mentioned her talented fingers before right?). He doesn't know when or why she started to do this, but he really hopes she will never stop (like ever).
There is something so sensual about the way she stretches her back after a long case (something she's done for as long as he can remember). He knows the stresses of the job that they do, and he knows that her stress builds within her lower back. He also know that she relieves this through arching backwards (she's flexible), and shifting her hips side to side, and up and down when the first doesn't work well enough. She body moves with such a soft physical flow that it is hard not to watch her. She has such control over her movements that has become one of his favorite things to witness (seriously, if you could see the way she arches her back you would understand). His favorite part of her post-case routine would have to be the relieved moan that spills out of her lips as she arches her back with that cat-like grace (her moans is the best kind of music).
She has also taken to biting her lip when she is contemplating something big. He noticed this because there is just something about the way her teeth pull against her bottom lip that is so inviting (he has to stop himself from kissing her often). He always had a strange attraction to her lips (it's probably not normal that he can stare at them for hours and still be enthralled), but when she pulls her plump bottom lip in-between her teeth he can't help but to come even more attracted. There is something about her hesitation that causes his stomach to coil deliciously (maybe it's because she does this right before kissing him breathless). He doesn't know what it is, but every time she catches her lip between her teeth she snags a bigger piece of his heart (what? She's sexy! She's had his heart for a while).
With lip biting comes lip licking, and no one can lick their lips with as much fervor as Ziva (he's watched other women do it now, and it kind of disgusts him). She has this way of sliding her tongue just so across the soft petals of her lips, and he can't do anything to fight the pull she holds over him (not that he would ever want to). She licks her lips in invitation, she licks her lips when she has tasted something delicious, and she licks her lips when her throat goes try and her pupils dilate (she licks her lips when she wants him).
Everything about her gets him riled up and ready to go, but none more so than the one he had recently been privileged to finding out. It was something he had never imagined (he imagined a lot), and he couldn't stop thinking about it.
There was something so primal about the way that her accent thickened when she was in the throes of passion. Her voice would drop to a throaty alto, and the undercurrents of her voice would shift to the forefront adding such velvety tones to her already beautiful voice (he was hooked).
Shivers ran up and down his spine just recalling the memory. Her leg curled around his hips, her fingers grasping at his shoulders, and her voice floating heavily into the air around them as her breath fanned across his cheeks. Remembering all of it combined had his cheeks flushing as the heat that only she could quench churned in his belly. He wanted her (he always did).
"What are you thinking about, hm, Tony?" Ziva's voice snapped him out of his reverie and he was pleasantly surprised at the feel of her hair tickling the back of his neck as she hovered over him.
"You," he answered without hesitating, and he watched as her eyes dilated and her tongue raked across her bottom lip in desire.
"Oh?" she questioned, her hand rubbing smooth circles along his arm as she leaned in closer. Her lips were inviting him in, and who was he to resist such an invitation.
"Yeah," he whispered, before catching her lips in heated kiss.
There were so many things about Ziva that he adored, but all of them combined made her who she was (and he appreciated each and every piece of her).
END
This didn't turn out how I had planned it, but I would like to think there is a bit of good hidden within this random piece.
Reviews/comments would be lovely. Thank you for your time. :D