Disclaimer: I'm all out of denials at the moment, but we can assume it isn't mine.
Spoilers: Shalom. I guess. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Summary: Tiva PWP. No, really, that's it. I've got no character development, no plot, just Tony and Ziva doin' it. Because…I'm sick of making excuses. It's just sex. That's right…SEX! Whoo! Also, some talk about the fact that she called Gibbs. During sex. Not that she called Gibbs during sex, just that they're talking during sex…well, more like immediately afterwards and…awkward. But the important thing is SEX! SEX! Why, yes, I did grow up in New England…
Tony held up his gift and Ziva eyed the garment critically. "I am not wearing those."
"C'mon, it's like lingerie." He held the lederhosen out, prompting her to take them and hold them at arm's length. "It's not supposed to be for you; it's supposed to be for me."
"There is no way that you can convince me you think leather shorts are sexy." She regarded the garment warily. "And on the off chance that you can, I'd have to ask you to leave."
He wasn't really considering the shorts, just the suspenders combined with the lack of any shirt. "It's not that bad."
"Do I need to give you a history lesson?" She was starting to regret having answered the door.
He started to lose patience, "The least you can do is take off your clothes and pretend you're going to try them on."
"If that's the only reason you stopped by…" She relented, tugging her shirt over her head and resisting the urge to cringe as pain shot through her ribcage. Pain was good. Pain confirmed that she was alive.
"Oh, God, Ziva." He touched her almost immediately, grabbing her breasts in handfuls and squeezing. His thumbs lightly grazed her nipples, causing them to harden. Her breath quickened and he undid her pants, pushing them down. His hands followed the curve of her hips and moved down her thighs, caressing every inch of smooth skin that they could find.
"So you don't want me to wear the lederhosen?" She was fully conscious in her hesitation removing his clothing. The shirt she'd just finished unbuttoning practically melted off his torso as she trailed her fingertips down his chest, following the thin line of hair on stomach to his beltline, where she pretended to struggle with the mechanics of the buckle, button and zipper.
He groaned in anticipation as he pushed her backward onto her bed and she kicked off the pants still tangled around her ankles. She stroked him and he gasped, "It was a gag gift."
Her body arched into him almost involuntarily. "You're planning to gag me?"
His mouth on hers prevented him from answering for a moment. "Never. I like hearing you scream."
"Good." She nipped at his neck as she tore at his pants and boxers, now annoyed that so many barriers were coming between them. He was already hard and ready when he escaped from his last scraps of clothing, but she teased him by running his fingers up the underside of his shaft. "Mmm…you like that?"
"I can think of something I'd like better." His first few thrusts were subdued, acknowledging his appreciation of her smooth inner thighs but begging for more.
She pushed his head down, pressing his face to her chest, her stomach, and further down. He was more than obliging, his warm tongue leaving a wet trail down her toned upper body. His frustration increased somewhere near her ankles as her breath became increasingly ragged. "Tony…"
He moved back up her body, allowing his weight to press her deeper into the mattress as he settled on top of her. His breath was hot on her face. "I want you to put me inside you. Show me you want me."
She allowed her hands to respond. When she had him aligned, she murmured, "I like to be…"
"I know." They both gasped as he pressed his hips forward. "But I'm on top tonight."
She had no objections, drawing her knees up further and pushing her hips up to meet him with each thrust. Their rhythm built and she wrapped her legs around him, feeling a sudden compulsion to trap him inside her forever. Her nails dug into his back as she clasped him against her. She tried to pull him deeper with every muscle she could.
"Tonyyyyy…" His name was part scream, part demand, part breathless plea. The vocalizations that followed were products of nothing but absolute pleasure.
Pressure built in his lower abdomen. He grunted and his response came in an equally indecipherable yet utterly comprehensible language. She tightened the grip of her legs around his waist as he ceased to support his mass. His dead weight on top of her caused the mattress to sink further, making her feel like she was the one encased in a warm, dark, familiar space.
He didn't roll off her when he suddenly and anxiously asked, "Why'd you call him?"
"What?" The pressure on her chest was making it hard for her to catch her breath.
The look in his eyes was enough to get her to discontinue her struggles. "Gibbs."
"Do we have to talk about that? Now?" She tried to kiss his mouth, but he turned his head and her lips pressed against his jawbone.
He forced himself to remember that he was at least a little bit angry. "You should have called me." Despite his breathlessness, she could hear pain in his voice.
She allowed her lips to trail along his jaw, eventually finding his earlobe, which she nipped and gently tugged before whispering, "There would have been consequences."
He grimaced slightly before asking, "For who?"
"For NCIS. For you." She tried to let her kisses on his neck explain the inexplicable. Truthfully, she'd never even considered asking him for his help. He was her escape, but not her escape plan.
"I would have done anything for you." In spite of his current position, he felt rejected. He kissed her roughly, unsuccessfully attempting to regain some of the lost faith.
She didn't want to hear his hurt. "You brought me lederhosen."
"Yeah." He sealed off his mind from anything beyond the physical moment as he rolled off her. "And you still haven't shown me how they look."