Bitch, I'm back. By popular demand.
Okay no, actually I'm back because I already planned on posting this whole story no matter what sort of response it got. Thankfully, it has gotten a largely positive one. Thank you guys for the reviews! They really help me feel like I'm accomplishing something by posting these stories. And I'm so glad that you guys found the reunion to be realistic.
I forgot to mention in the last chapter that I plan on updating this weekly (on Fridays from this point forward) and that I have finished the whole fic and it has 9 chapters total.
But, yes, we have made it to the sexy time chapter. Enjoy. Please review and let me know how my sexy time writing is. This is my first published smut fic ever so be gentle but thorough with your reviews
And if you guys end up hating my sexy time writing, please stick around anyway because I promise the rest of the story is really good and I'm really proud of it.
THANKS
Tony cleared his throat as he watched her toss back another glass of whiskey. Her third. He looked down at the still full glass in his hand. His fourth. It seemed like the longer they sat in relative silence, only broken by the occasional comment about the Dateline special they were watching, the more desperate they both became to get drunk. Or at least get blurry.
Senior had returned and left again long ago, dropping the deflated mattress on the floor and tossing out an excuse to go back and revisit the lady he had borrowed it from. Tony couldn't bring himself to care about his father sleeping with his neighbor for the second time. At least this time it wouldn't be in his bed.
It was almost an entire hour before the pizza arrived and Ziva didn't even make an attempt to pay for it. He thought it could have been because she hadn't yet had the chance to exchange her money for US dollars, but he had a feeling she was just more relaxed about that sort of thing. She seemed more willing to let other people do things for her. It was an interesting change.
She seemed to be more relaxed about a lot of things. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she seemed peaceful. Calm. Maybe even happy, though he felt like that was hard to judge based on an hour or so of observation. Especially when she was probably still stressed about the whole Kort thing.
"I have not had pizza in forever," she announced as she took a bite out of her first piece.
"Why is that? Is the pizza in Israel not as delicious as it is in DC?"
She shrugged, "It is alright. Not terrible. But I have not been in Israel all that much."
"Really? Where have you been?"
"Sudan. Jordan. Syria."
"Those don't sound like popular vacation spots," he took a large bite out of his own piece and chased it with whiskey.
"They are not. But they are popular deployment spots for UN troops."
He almost choked, "The UN? You became a peacekeeper?"
She shook her head, "I did not fight if that is what you are asking. I was a field medic. Trained to assist wounded soldiers and civilians. We tried our best to be there when conflict arose in order to save as many people as possible, but more often than not we were a glorified clean-up crew."
Her words were slurring together just the tiniest bit, and he absently wondered if she would be offering up this much information if she wasn't tipsy. Or maybe this was another way she was more relaxed now. She was relaxed with information. "Sounds like you were surrounded by a lot of death. I thought you were trying to get away from all that."
She looked over when she heard the disdain in his voice. She had told him she couldn't handle all the death and evil all the time. She told him she had to get away. And then she ran into some of the most dangerous and deadly conflicts in modern history. She could see how he felt betrayed.
"I was. Sure, there was plenty of death, but there was also a lot of hope. I was able to save so many lives. I met so many incredible people making the most out of their horrible circumstances. I learned so much about life. And I learned so much about myself. I may have even done enough good to make up for some of the destruction I have caused."
He let out a long breath before nodding. He could understand how providing medical attention to innocent victims of horrible violence around the world could be therapeutic for her. But it also sounded like she put herself in a lot of danger. And here he had been thinking that she was safer while she was away. Turns out she wasn't safe anywhere.
He paused for a second as something she said earlier sunk in, "You said you were in Sudan? How recently was that?"
She shrugged, "Maybe a year ago. Probably less. Why?"
"Did you happen to run into a Dr. Woods while you were there?"
She looked around for a moment as she thought, "Uhm, I believe so. He was working with IDG."
Tony grimaced, "He was. Until he was kidnapped by a group of rebels and made to care for their injured leader or else they would kill him."
Her eyebrows furrowed, "That is horrible. But how do you…"
He laughed without humor, "Because we worked his case. And you're never gonna guess who he's married to."
"Jeanne Benoit."
His mouth fell open as she looked at him guiltily, "How did you know that?"
"He showed me a photo. Told me about how they met. I found it quite amusing if I am being honest."
"Yeah, I'm sure you did," He leaned forward and poured himself another glass from the bottle sitting on the coffee table. He silently thanked himself for having a lower proof whiskey on his shelf. It was the action of drinking that he was finding comfort in tonight, not so much the alcohol. Though he had to admit the burning in his throat was helping to cancel out the burning on his hands as he forced himself to keep them as far from her skin as possible. She had removed her sweater a while back to reveal a tiny tank top underneath. It was white. It made her look even tanner.
"So did you have to see her?"
"Yup," he popped the p as he leaned back on the cushions.
"How was that?"
He let out another humorless laugh, "Not great. Awkward. Intense. A little like seeing you after three years."
She pressed her lips together as he mentally kicked himself for the stupid comparison. So much for avoiding that conversation.
Thankfully, Ziva seemed even more reluctant to talk about their past than he was.
She poured herself another glass.
"Anything else happen while I was gone? Any more blasts from the past?"
Tony laughed, "Oh, it's actually sad how long the answer to that question is going to be. The past three years have been almost nothing but circular storylines. If we were a TV show, I would say our writers were scraping the barrel. It was honestly tedious."
"That bad?"
"Horrible. Hollis Mann came back. Some crazy Russian tried to torture Gibbs as some sort of delayed vengeance for Ari's death. Jeane showed up again. Now Trent Kort is rearing his bald head."
She raised her eyebrows as she tilted her head back and downed her fourth glass of whiskey. He realized he had never seen her drink this much, but she seemed to hold her liquor well enough.
"That does sound tedious."
"But it wasn't all so boring. People died."
"People always die, Tony."
"Yeah, but good people. Ned Dorneget. Ex-wife Diane."
"Diane is good people now?"
He shrugged, "She became more tolerable after she and Fornell got back together."
"Back together? After being divorced?"
"Yeah. It was a weird time. Love was in the air, I guess. Tim and Delilah are still together."
She nodded, "He told me. Well, he mentioned it. He seems happy."
"Yeah, I think he is. Gibbs got shot."
She winced, "Was it bad?"
"Shattering bullet. Did some real damage. Almost didn't make it. Almost killed himself again when he wouldn't stop working so damn hard. Man is starting to show his age."
Ziva nodded, "I know how that goes."
"Schmeil?"
She sighed, "He has moved into an assisted living center in Jerusalem. I worry about him a lot."
"I bet you do. Jackson Gibbs died."
"That is horrible. How did Gibbs take it?"
"About the way you would expect. He tried to blow past it. Eventually, he slowed down and processed it. But he never let us see him sweat."
She nodded, "Sounds about right."
They slid into an oddly calm silence as they both watched bad actors reenact a gruesome murder on the screen. He slowly sipped from his glass.
She was the next one to speak. "You said love was in the air. Did you get a taste of that?"
He hesitated with the glass just inches from his lips, "I'm not sure we should talk about that."
She shrugged, "Try me. No wait," she leaned forward and poured yet another glass. What was this, number six?
She leaned back on the couch, "Okay. Now try me."
He eyed her for a minute before deciding to go along with it, "Well, I had a girlfriend for a while there. A long while, actually. Way longer than you would have expected."
She nodded, "That is good."
"Yeah. But it didn't work out. It's been almost 6 months since we broke up."
"Was it very serious? I mean, I know it must have been serious for it to have lasted that long. But were you…"
"No. I mean, we were serious, I guess. But I wouldn't say we were… serious. We weren't in love. At least, I wasn't. Not really."
She seemed to consider this for a moment before speaking again, "Why were you with her, then?"
He let out a long, dramatic sigh, "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?"
She stayed quiet for a while, but then: "What was her name?"
He looked at her sideways, "Don't laugh."
"Why would I laugh?"
"Her name was Zoe. I met her back when I was walking beats in Baltimore. She works for ATF now."
She looked over at him, "Why would that make me laugh?"
He smiled a little at her apparent failure to connect dots that everyone else had connected at the time, "Because it sounds a lot like your name. And she sorta looked like you. Acted a lot like you."
She raised her glass to her lips, "So you have a type."
"I guess that's better than saying I have an obsession."
She tilted her head back at his comment and let the whiskey run down her throat. He couldn't bring himself to regret the comment. She was the one pushing him down this line of questioning. If she wanted to avoid this…
"Why did you guys break up?"
Tony actually laughed, "You really don't want me to answer that."
"If that were the case, I wouldn't have asked."
He watched her tilt her glass back and forth in her hand. She had a fair point. She was asking for this.
"What the hell. We broke up because we were doomed from the start. It was my fault, really. I put too much pressure on the relationship. I put too much pressure on her."
"Too much pressure on her to do what?"
"To be someone she was not."
Ziva sat up straighter, "Who were you trying to pressure her to be?"
Tony leaned forward and stared at her, willing her to take back her question, practically begging her not make him answer. She was clearly less drunk than he was right now. He wanted her to be the responsible one. He wanted her to stop this conversation for the both of them.
And the old Ziva would have stopped it. She would have redirected their thoughts and set them on a much safer path than the one they currently found themselves wandering down.
The old Ziva would have done the right thing. But the new Ziva was much more selfish. And she wanted to hear him say what she was so sure he was thinking. She wanted to hear it come from him.
So she just stared back at him. And eventually, he answered.
"I was trying to turn her into you."
She swallowed. He blinked.
"In the beginning, she was close enough. But as time went on, it became more and more apparent that she wasn't you. So I tried to make it work. I tried to make her work. She didn't smell right, so I bought her new body wash. New shampoo. New Perfume. She didn't laugh like you, so I stopped telling so many jokes around her. Can't laugh when there's nothing funny. She didn't feel like you, so I…"
She leaned forward and poured another glass, "So you what?"
He looked at her, his eyes widening as he realized just how far they had spiraled already. Apparently, this was all it took for him to open up. Just a quiet apartment, some crappy pizza, and half a dozen glasses of whiskey.
Put them together, you get a DiNozzo truth serum.
He licked his lips and answered, "I came up with ways to make that work too. Everywhere besides the bedroom, I was trying to make her as close to you as possible. But inside the bedroom, I had to make sure she was different. So I handcuffed her to the bed. I bought her dirty outfits to wear. I even asked her to slap me once."
They both swallowed hard.
"We had dirty sex. Wild sex. As long as we were doing something crazy and different, I wouldn't notice the fact that she didn't moan my name the way you did. I wouldn't get to miss the way you squeezed my hips with your thighs. I wouldn't think about the fact that she wasn't pinning my hands to the bed with our fingers intertwined."
"I am sure she is more than capable of doing all of those things, Tony."
"But they wouldn't feel the same. They would feel like someone else doing them. And that was more than I could handle."
He watched her lean forward and set her still full glass on the coffee table.
"And when did it stop working? When did you come to a point when you realized she would never be me?"
Something about the way she said it made him feel more naked and vulnerable that he had sitting in front of her in that farmhouse all those years ago. It was like she could see him, see right through him to his soul. Which was embarrassingly reaching out for her so desperately that he had played sick games with another woman's heart just to ease the pain for a while.
"She told me she loved me. And you had never said that before."
He saw her reach for her glass again, but stop herself just short. She didn't take the next drink.
"It's crazy, right? I had this smart, funny, sexy woman standing in front of me telling me she loved me. And I believed her, too, I mean after the shit she had gone through to be with me. You know, one time, even though I took painstaking measures to make sure I never got too wrapped up to stop myself, I still called out your name instead of hers. I don't even think I was actually thinking about you, it was just like my mouth longed to moan your name so badly it took whatever chance it could get. But she never even said anything about it. She just moved right past it and continued to do whatever insane, terrible requests I had. God, she was perfect. And hot. So hot."
Her eyes started watching him as he leaned a bit closer. Maybe it was the steadily rising temperature of his body that was making the whiskey work harder, but suddenly he felt like the very blood in his veins was straight alcohol. It burned as it pumped through his body.
"And I dumped her. Because she wasn't you. And my sick brain would rather be alone with nothing but a night full of memories and my own fucking hand than to run the risk of looking into anybody's eyes but yours for the rest of my life."
Ziva looked away, and he could see the muscles in her neck moving as she clenched her jaw. He watched them with great interest, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to touch them, to feel the way the smooth skin shifted and rippled as she ground her teeth together.
She ran a hand through her hair and it left a few stray curls to fall around her face, blocking his view of her. And he reached out without even thinking, gently brushing them back and tucking them behind her ear. His fingers lingered around her throat a while longer than necessary, but he noticed that she was no longer clenching her jaw. She was watching him carefully with a combination of a plea and a clear warning in her eyes. He ignored both, choosing to barely let his hand hover just above the skin of her neck and shoulder, neither touching her nor moving away. His own excruciating limbo. He wondered if he was doomed to an eternity here.
But amazingly, his lips moved again, and his tone was much softer than it had been before. Instead of frustration, it was full of longing as he whispered, "How did I lose you? Did I not try hard enough?"
She swallowed and the movement was almost enough to cause her soft skin to brush against his fingers for a moment. Almost.
"You tried, Tony. There was nothing you could have done."
"I don't believe that."
"But you have to. If there had been anyway - If I had even been capable of -"
She looked down and he automatically brought up his other hand to slide a finger under her chin and bring her eyes back towards his. His skin burned where it touched hers. He guessed based on the way her eyes widened and her lips parted that she was feeling the same fire.
She swallowed again, and this time he let his hand brush over her neck as she did so. It came to rest on her shoulder.
"Tony, if only there was a way I could make you understand-"
"I'm a good listener. Just talk."
She shook her head, "I do not know how to..."
"Tell me you love me, Ziva."
"I can't."
"You can. Because I know you love me. I know you do. Just tell me."
"Tony-"
"Say it. Just once. Please. I'm begging you."
She tried to turn, to slide out of his grip and end their conversation with a definite rejection. She just wanted crawl into his tiny bed that she knew would smell so much like him. He wasn't the only one with desert memories and a hand. She would do fine on her own tonight.
But he stopped her. One of his hands slid down to her waist, covered only by the thin cotton material of her tank top. The other tangled desperately in her hair and he pulled her face to him, claiming her lips with such a firm insistence that she practically gasped against him, her lips parting just enough for him to slide his tongue in to reacquaint itself with her gums, her teeth, the roof of her mouth.
It took exactly a half a second for her body to betray her. Her lips moved against his instinctively, letting him take what he needed from her before moving to take her own share. Her hands found the fabric of his shirt, balling it up and using it to pull him closer.
His hand slid beneath the thin straps of her tank top, running along her collarbone and across to her shoulder before he clumsily separated their lips.
He brought the hand up to settle on the side of her face, fingertips sliding into her hair as he brushed a thumb across her round, swollen lips. He waited for her to open her eyes.
She finally did, and he practically moaned at the desire he saw in them.
"Tell me, Ziva. I want to hear you say it."
Her lips parted and her breath blew across his face, sending a low shiver down his spine.
"Tony," her voice was scratchy and deep, barely above a whisper.
"Say it, baby. Please. Just say it." He closed his eyes, ready to hear the words he had spent three years trying to conjure in his mind. He could never get it quite right. Her accent would always be off or the inflection would be wrong. He just wanted to hear her say it so he could know.
"I love you."
He drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
"Now say it in Hebrew."
He felt her lift her forehead off of where it had been resting on his, "Why?"
"Because it's your language. And it means something to hear you say it in your native tongue. At least it means something to me."
He had looked up the words during one of those sleepless nights in the first month she was gone. He hit the speaker button on google translate just about a hundred times, listening to the strange sounds and trying to imagine those syllables rolling off her tongue. She was proficient in so many languages, but they would never sound as right coming from her lips as her native one. And he wanted to hear her confess her love for him in it. He wanted to know what it sounded like.
He felt her fingers brush up his arms to rest on either shoulder.
"Ani ohevet otcha."
He barely let her finish before he claimed her lips once again, dropping his hands down to her waist and guiding her closer to his body. She let him move her, positioning herself squarely on his lap, her knees straddling him as he slipped a hand under the back of her tank top.
She returned the favor by skillfully unbuttoning his shirt, top to bottom, letting the back of her hands brush against his chest hair and bare stomach as she worked. He worked the thin cotton of her shirt up and over her hips, letting it gather around her waist. He rested his palms on the newly exposed skin, his thumbs settling into the dips around her pronounced hip bones.
His touch seemed to light her on fire, causing her to make quick work of the few remaining buttons and slide the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms until it fell limply onto the couch behind him.
She pulled her lips from his, using a flat hand to tilt his head to the side and expose his neck. She blew on the skin lightly before ducking her head to kiss it, then suck it, then bite it. She ran her tongue over the affected area as if dulling the pain before starting back at the beginning, kissing, sucking and biting again in a mind-numbing cycle.
He closed his eyes tight and blew a long breath out of his nose. She had done the exact same thing in the farmhouse, working his sensitive skin as he fought to keep his wits about him enough to undress her. She had received an equally enthusiastic response back then to the one she was receiving now. She must have remembered how much he liked this.
The thought alone, the idea that she could have spent the last three years playing back that night just as often as he had, was enough to make him push down on her hips, making her grind against him. He needs friction. He needed to feel her on top of him.
She seemed to understand his unspoken plea and slowly shifted her hips forward to meet his, slowly moving them from side to side as she adjusted herself on his lap.
He growled as his cock sprang to life, hardening against the suddenly tight fabric of his pants.
She left his neck with a final bite and lick before she placed her hands on top of his at her hips and started guiding them upwards, pushing her shirt higher and higher as she helped him undress her.
Her attempts were working just fine until his palms came in contact with her bra, white and a bit lacey around the edges, and he found himself unable to pull them away. He moved to cup her breasts within the material, finding it amazing how familiar they felt though he had only held them like this once and so long ago.
She noticed his distraction and resigned herself to tugging the tank top over her head without his assistance. His eyes came back into focus as the skin above his hands became exposed and he could see the way her breasts were held up, supported by the wire. He leaned forward to press his lips to the soft skin just above the cups. He squeezed and lifted and kneaded them between his hands, planting small kisses and gentle nudges as he went along. He finally dipped a finger below the fabric of one of the cups and tugged it down, exposing more tan skin and an erect nipple. His tongue made its way to the mound instinctively and he smiled as she gasped, bringing both her hands to the back of his neck and holding his head there. He continued to lick and suck on it as his hands slid across her back and fumbled with the clasp of the bra, struggling to get it unhooked in light of her tiny moans and insistent grinding.
He finally managed to disconnect the two sides and slide the straps down her arms, leaving her open and exposed in front of him, her position on his lap meaning he had the best possible view of the goosebumps that rose on her bare breasts as they met the cold air of the apartment.
He smirked, "Are you cold?"
She shook her head, drawing his attention back to her face, "Not even a little."
He understood her meaning and immediately slid both his arms around her bare waist, leaning up to catch her lips as she let herself fall into him, both arms snaking around his neck and her breasts pressing up against his chin as their lips worked across each other yet again.
It wasn't long before his hands found their way back down to her ass, cupping and squeezing it through her insanely tight jeans. Had it always been this round? Or this soft under his palms? He could have sworn it was more muscular, tighter last time he did this.
Well, it's been three years. And she's not a ninja anymore. Maybe she let up on her work out routine.
He decided he liked the softer, less defined Ziva. She was easier to grab and squeeze. She fit better in his palms.
Speaking of palms, hers were starting to dance dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. He wanted her to touch him, for fuck's sake he wanted it so bad. But he knew himself too well, and at this point, if he felt her hand so much as brush over the growing bulge in his pants, he was going to have to make a quick exit. And an expensive payment at the dry cleaners.
"Take off your pants," he commanded into her mouth, pushing her hips back so she would slide off of his lap. She followed instructions, standing straight in front of him and reaching for the button on her jeans. He bit back a comment about orders being orders. She had always been great at following through with those.
He watched her unzip and lower her pants over her ass, exposing silky black panties as she skillfully kicked the tight material to the side and waited for his next command.
He looked her up and down slowly, drinking in the sight, so much better than the one he conjured in his dreams.
He gestured pointedly at the small strip of fabric still covering her, "Sexy. Did you expect something like this to happen?"
She shook her head, curls falling around her face as she chewed on her bottom lip, "I did not."
He simply raised his eyebrows.
She shrugged, "I like to be optimistic."
"Hm."
She watched as he slid off of the couch and onto his knees in front of her. His hands traveled up both of her legs, starting at her ankles and working his way up to her ass, sliding palms across the fabric covering it and giving it another squeeze.
She almost fell forward as she felt her knees buckling beneath her, but she caught herself on his shoulders, earning her another smirk.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded, "Just thought the earth moved."
He grunted at the familiar phrase and pulled her closer, moving his lips and his tongue across her stomach, around her side, dipping closer and closer to the hem of her panties.
She squeezed her thighs together when she felt his breath against her. She felt his fingers hook through her panties and start tugging down. She squeezed them tighter.
"You are still wearing pants, Tony."
He paused and looked up at her. She swallowed at the sight of him, on his knees before her, the bulge that she could barely take her eyes away from seemingly forgotten as he prepared to touch her, to please her before he bothered to deal with his own needs.
"Don't need to take them off for what I'm about to do."
She shivered, throwing her head back as his words alone seemed to draw her closer to an intense release. But she regained her balance and looked back down at him.
"There will be plenty of time for that later, Ahava. Tonight, I just want to feel you inside of me."
He watched as she stepped back and dropped to her knees in front of him, letting them see eye to eye. She reached out and started fumbling with his belt, and he had to put a hand over hers and stop it.
She looked back at him confused.
"Let me do it. If you accidentally touch me, I swear I'm gonna…"
She nodded as she got his meaning. She sat back on her heels as she watched him undo his belt and slide it through the loops. Then he unzipped his pants, pushing them down and maneuvering them off of his bent legs. Her eyes got stuck on the tent that formed in his boxers until he pulled those down as well, letting his cock spring up as he removed his final piece of clothing.
She reached for him instantly, and he had to grab her wrist to stop her.
"Lay down," he commanded her again and she held back the shiver that his voice caused. But she listened, sliding her legs out from underneath her and laying down on the rug, moving around the coffee table a bit in order to provide them with more room to work. She kept her legs pressed together, her heels digging into the carpet as she waited for him.
He moved slowly, running a hand up the outside of her thigh as he gently pried her legs apart and moved to crouch between them. She shivered as his cock brushed against the silky fabric covering her, teasing so lightly at what was to come.
He rubbed his cock along her length again, this time on purpose and with painstakingly slow precision.
She hissed and reached for them, trying to remove the final barrier between her and the man she had been thinking about for three long years. She needed him. She needed him now.
He stopped her again, wrapping expert fingers around her wrist and pinning it to her stomach.
"Let me do the honors."
He hooked his fingers through the material once again, pulling it down just a couple of inches before pausing.
She hissed again, "Stop teasing me, Tony."
"I'm not teasing you." He pulled them down another couple of inches.
"Then what do you call this?"
"I call this foreplay, Ziva. Since you won't let me get you ready the fun way, I have to make sure you are nice and… lubricated before I try to do anything."
She groaned, "I am plenty lubricated, Tony. Just please…"
His eyebrows rose with interest as he tugged the material down another couple of inches, enough to completely expose her ass but not nearly as much as she wanted.
"What was that? I didn't hear you."
"I said please, Tony."
"Please what?"
"Please just do it."
"Do what?"
"I am not going to say it. Just please."
He pulled her panties down and around her ankles before letting go of them. She tried to kick them off, but he held down her legs.
"Tell me what you want, or they're gonna stay right there."
She groaned, "Tonnnny."
His cock twitched as she squirmed beneath him, his name falling out of her mouth as a desperate plea. She wanted him so bad. He could get used to this.
"Say it, Ziva. Or we will sit here. Just like this. All night."
She swallowed as she pressed her legs together again and he watched as she forced herself not to reach down and relieve some of the pressure there herself.
"Please, Tony. I need you."
"You need me where?"
She groaned and threw her head back, frustrated by the utter lack of friction and his refusal to just FUCKING TOUCH HER.
"I need you inside of me, Tony. Please. I need you in me."
A cheeky smile spread across his face as he slid the silky fabric off of her feet and tossed it somewhere. He moved back between her legs and she could feel him pressing against the skin of her inner thigh.
"Now was that so hard?"
"Hard," she panted as she watched him position himself over her entrance, "So… so hard."
He chuckled as he leaned forward, positioning most of his weight on the hand he placed right next to her bare waist as he slowly pressed himself against her.
"Yes, baby. So hard. And you are so wet."
She felt him start to slide inside of her and before she could process what she was doing, a hand was reaching out, pushing against his lower stomach to stop him.
He looked up at her, confused.
"Tell me you love me. I said it. Now I want to hear you say it."
He watched her swallow as she tried to catch her breath. The desire burning in her eyes never wavering as she waited on him. Waited for him to man up and tell her what she already knew, what he was about to show her.
He understood her need to hear it. He understood her desperation.
So he leaned down a little farther and whispered in her ear as he gently slid himself all the way inside of her, feeling her walls grip him as he settled deep in her, "I love you, Ziva."
She gasped and threw her head back at the sensation. He felt so much bigger than she remembered. Or maybe it was just the fact that she hadn't had anyone inside of her in so long. She wasn't used to feeling so… full.
"Thank you," she whispered, not sure whether she meant for his words or his actions. At this point, they were both so long overdue. She had wanted them both so badly.
He chuckled lightly and she felt him move a bit inside of her with the motion. She clenched her jaw.
"Don't thank me just yet. I'm gonna give you a hell of a lot more to be grateful for."
And he slowly started to pump his cock as he ducked his head to take her breast into his mouth again. They found their rhythm quickly as if falling back into an old habit. It was like riding a bike. They would never forget how to move when they were together.
They were both started to feel the pressure building as they worked each other into a frenzy. Ziva was squeezing her thighs around him as he slowly increased his pace. He reached up for her hands, which had been tangled in his hair, pulling at it and running through it. He pinned them on either side of her, slipping his fingers between hers, their sweat making it hard to maintain the contact and causing them to hold tighter onto each other as their bodies melted into one mess of limbs.
At some point she pushed him off, telling him to sit with his back against the couch. He complied, whimpering sadly as his cock slid out of her tight warmth. He didn't have to miss it for long, though, because she was quickly crawling over and straddling his hips, sinking back down on him, both of their heads falling back as the feeling returned and soon they were frantically moving against each other again. Her breasts, which were right in front of his face, bounced about with every move she made and he soon found himself positioning one hand on the center of her back to guide her movements while bringing the other up to cup one, his mouth securing itself on the other as she drove them both hard and fast down the road to their release.
He felt her body tremble under his hands before he felt her walls clamp down on his cock as she rode her way through her orgasm, her head thrown back as she cried out his name once, twice, three times. He slid both arms around her and pulled her against him, getting as much skin to skin contact as possible while burying his face in between her quivering breasts. He guided her up and down his cock a few more times as he rode out his own pleasure, releasing his load inside of her as she continued to squeeze him until there was nothing left to give.
She sat up first, sliding gently off of his soft dick as she reached above his head to grab something. He soon realized it was her tank top. She wiped herself off and offered it to him. He took it, refraining from bringing it to his face to smell her on it. Instead, he simply wiped the leftover cum off himself and set the top to the side. She sat next to him, her back against the couch and her arm brushing against his as her breathing slowed to a normal rate.
"Well, that was… unexpected," he commented, wanting to break the silence.
She laughed, "Not that unexpected, I am afraid."
He nodded a little, "I guess that's fair. What do we do now?"
She looked around the room a bit, taking in the open pizza box and the half-empty bottle, "I think we should clean this place up a little before we fall asleep."
He made a face, clearly not interested.
She held back a smile. Once a child, always a child.
"Or I suppose we could lay down on the couch and avoid our responsibilities for a few hours longer."
His eyes lit up as he looked over at her, "Together?"
She laughed, "Together. I do not know about you, but I am exhausted."
He nodded, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself back on the couch, ignoring the way the cold leather felt against his still burning skin. He wished the sweat covering his body would dry a bit faster, though, as he found it hard to get comfortable when he kept sliding around on the material.
Once he felt settled, he extended an arm of invitation toward her, "I'm pooped. Let's sleep."
She smiled as she stood up and reached for the blanket draped casually across the back of the couch. She unfolded it and spread it out around her as she slid into her spot in front of him, his arms finding their way around her waist and her ass pressing against his lower stomach as they spooned in the small space allowed by the furniture. She made sure he was covered by the blanket before laying her head down on one of the pillows. She felt Tony scoot closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder as he took a long sniff of her hair. She thought to make some joke as they lay in each other's arms, bodies still wet with sweat from their rigorous lovemaking, but she chose to keep quiet, instead opting to close her eyes and let the feeling of his heart beating against her back lull her into the most restful sleep she had experienced in almost 3 years.
