Tony gulped as he begged his erection not to reveal itself to the cause of its excitement. Ziva seemed oblivious to her ravishing beauty which both added to her appeal and made her harder to approach with a proposition.

Her hair was cascading in tight ringlets over her shoulders and down her bare back. The exotic skin was flawless and shimmering in the dim light from the cheap bulb. Her lips were parted curiously as her bright eyes darted about the room, landing everywhere but on him. Her toned legs were unusually on display, and the rippling muscles beneath the soft skin made him hot, breathless and hard.

She glided across the room and flung herself backwards onto the lumpy mattress, the metal spring prodding her back and making her gasp. The sharp exhalation scared Tony and he twisted his body to see what had happened. A smile fluttered across her mouth to reassure him and he grinned back, his eyes widening and his cheeks flushed. His hand ghosted across her delicate skin as he drew the curtain of hair off her face. The ticklish trail his finger left tingled and she clenched her teeth to prevent another gasp escaping her lips.

Although she appreciated privacy and was a naturally secretive person, she could be quite frank about her sex life at times, and she had let slip some hefty clues as to her preferences. Tony's mind was frantically trying to recall the pertinent details of past conversations in order to make the night enjoyable and as exciting for her as it would inevitably be for him.

'Ready?' Her sultry voice broke into his whirling mind and all the cogs stopped instantly at the mesmerising sound.

'Uh huh,' His throat was dry and he could only muster a choked grunt to convey his answer. He swallowed and nodded, careful not to let his eagerness show.

'Okay,' she acknowledged softly.

He sat up and moved towards the headboard. She looked at him questioningly. He jerked his thumb towards the wall separating them from the likely serial killer in the adjoining bedroom. She nodded, her face frozen in the porcelain look of resignation, but underneath her spirits had fallen at the reminder of the reason they were doing this. Her lips longed to escape their forced unreadable line and pout like a spoilt child but she would not let her feelings show. This was to be business and a pleasureless show to fool a murderer. She was still repeating that mantra to herself when a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her backwards.

Her hair spread wildly across his face and a few strands slipped into her mouth. They tasted like blackberries and chestnuts. He knew Ziva would not appreciate him licking her hair but his arms refused to leave her warm skin to take the silky hair from his wet mouth so he moaned and settled into the embrace.

She felt safe in his arms, which was a peculiar feeling because she felt safe with no one to protect her but her fists. His masculine presence reassured her even when she required no assurance. She could take care of herself but it was always nice to have someone else ready to protect you. She furrowed deeper into the crook of his arm.

They lay there in silence, the hot breath swirling above their faces in the chilly air of the unheated room. They could have stayed like that all night and not become bored or uncomfortable but despite their clear minds, the knowledge of their duty to pretend noisy sex was weighing down on the carefree hug.

Tony was the first to shift and break the companionable atmosphere. He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her, wistfully watching her nestled into the duvet. She opened one eye lazily and stared back at him. She sighed and opened both eyes fully, waiting for him to allow her to sit up. He released her from his grip and was immediately startled by a ferocious kick at the headboard. His mouth fell open and he raised his eyebrows.

She smirked and let out a comical moan before emitting a series of laboured grunts. He realised what she was doing and joined in, lashing out at the wall with his feet and bouncing up and down on the bed, the creaky springs groaning under the weight. Ziva grinned at the childish abandon with which he approached their task and turned her laughter into shrieks of elation. Determined to outdo her, Tony began to pant loudly and his grinding speeded up so that the bed sounded as if it were about to collapse. Ziva narrowed her eyes and let her competitive streak take over. She howled and began to scream Tony's name. Tony's face lit up at the sound of his name coming from his beautiful partner with such passionate force.

Her yells were stifled as she turned to him, eyes sparkling, and realised that his loosely wrapped towel had fallen off with the speed of his gyrations. He had nothing on underneath so he was now completely exposed. She gulped and looked down at herself, her baggy t-shirt finishing above her waist leaving her seductive panties preserving her modesty. She considered reminding him that the suspect could not see them and, if he had been able to, their cover would have been blown by their exaggerated intimation of sex, but decided not to; the view being quite pleasant and justifiable under the circumstances.

The sparseness of the noises alerting him to the end of their short-lived sexual games, he stopped grunting comically and turned to her. Seeing him stop the pretence, she regained her composure and grinned at him, resuming her previous moan of ecstasy.

Satisfied with her response, he rolled on top of her, unaware of his nakedness, and layered her neck with kisses. Her moans increased in both volume and intensity and, spurred on by the positive reaction, he moved his attentions further south.

Ziva's moans petered out and became shaky breaths as her pleasure became real and not absurdly magnified. Her neck arched backwards and her stomach was raised off the bed, her t-shirt falling down to her breasts. His lips graced her torso before reaching the lace of her panties. He hesitated, waiting for a sign from her, but she seemed to be waiting for his decision as to how far they took it.

His mind flashed back and skimmed through images of her, both real and imagined. He could see her lounging naked on his desk, he could hear her voice coming throatily from the phone uttering sensuous threats, he was gazing down at her bikini clad body, he was fingering photos of her during his exile to the ship, he was running his hands up and down her wet body in the shower, he was merciless under her vicelike grip on the bar top, he could smell her as she massaged his back on a hotel bed.

The images disappeared and reality swam in front of his eyes. The possibilities of his actions dawned on him; both the delightful romp and the complex consequences. Her body was tense beneath him, frozen as she waited for his decision. Once he had made his decision, it would be impossible to look back, you could not take back rejection nor could you undo the taste of your colleague's wetness. He took the plunge and delved his fingers underneath the lacy fabric. It was decided and done within the space of a second. The longest second they would ever endure.

The next chapter will be about their actual sex and I will maybe throw in a few more fantasies for an epilogue.