Her hands were so close now, he could feel her fingers a mere fraction of an inch away from where he wanted them most. He could hear her breathing quicken, and opened his eyes to see her biting her bottom lip. And then, just like that, she grabbed him in her hands. Tony's hips lunged off of the bed, thrusting into her fists.

"Oh, fuck, yes…" Tony swore. Finally. Finally, some relief.

She worked him slowly at first, one hand firmly holding the base of him while the other massaged his shaft. She brushed her thumb over his sensitive tip, and he gasped, feeling more pre-cum trickle from it. She swirled it around with her thumb, humming a contented sigh, and Tony nearly lost it right then and there with the thought that she was enjoying this just as much as he was.

She started to move her hands faster, stroke him with more confidence. Again his hips moved on their own accord, occasionally meeting her on the down stroke and retreating again so that he could feel her hands slide back up toward the tip of him. His breath was coming much heavier now, and he was practically whimpering, it felt so good.

"Ohhh, Ziva," he moaned. Luckily the music was still pounding in the background, so he was able to use her real name. "Ziva, I… I don't know how long I can last if you keep doing that," he confessed between heavy breaths. "So good… too good…" His head fell back and pressed into the mattress.

Ziva's response was to take him as close to the edge as possible. She sped up her actions, touched him with even more certainty. Tony gritted his teeth, trying to delay what was now inevitable. But oh, fuck, she was so good with those hands.

"Ziva!" Tony gasped. "Please! I'm so close… Oh God…" He couldn't decide at that point whether to go after the immediate gratification of what was sure to be an explosive orgasm from Ziva's touch, or to try to stop her so he could see if he could fuck her properly, which would of course take longer. But he was at Ziva's mercy, at this point. And it seemed like she would take him over the edge right then and there, and he was ready for it to happen.

"Oh God," he gritted. "Yes. Yes. I'm right there, Ziva. Fuck… I'm gonna cum… Oh, fuck…"

And then, right when he had made up his mind, when he was about to convulse and spill his seed into his boxers and over her hands, he lost the warmth of Ziva's grip. Tony gasped at the loss of contact, and took a moment to still his quivering hips. When he could lift his head again, he looked to her, horny and confused and just a little bit livid, having been denied his orgasm. But when she returned his gaze with one of pure arousal, he could tell what she wanted. She wanted it too.

It still took him a minute to calm down enough to make any kind of move. He watched her as they both labored through heavy breaths. She was sitting upright now, straddling his upper thigh. He could feel the heat coming off of her, could see the lust in her eyes. Could feel her nails scratching at his sides. She seemed close herself.

Naughty girl, Tony thought. Getting off like that, just watching him.

Eager to return the favor, Tony gripped Ziva by her waist with confident hands, lifting her off of him and rolling her onto her back. She gasped in surprise. He took his place at her side, propped up on one elbow, half hovering over her. His eyes locked with hers as his hand moved to smooth her hair, and continued down over her neck, between her breasts, over her stomach, past her hips… only to skirt around where she wanted it most and continue on to her outer thigh.

Ziva let out an exasperated moan. "Tony…." She complained. He responded by bringing his hand just a little bit closer; in between her legs, now, but only about halfway up past her knee. He liked hearing her plead with him like that. Ziva, the calm, cool, and collected assassin, becoming putty beneath him.

"Ziva," he began, caressing her inner thigh. "Do you want me to touch you?" A question much like the ones he was asking her moments ago. He still had to be sure, after all. Even though he was pretty certain of her answer already.

"Tony…" she moaned again, squeezing her eyes shut, parting her lips. He moved his hand a little closer.

"Do you?" he husked, teasing her. He began to slowly remove his hand, adding, "Because I guess if you don't…"

It was then that Ziva grabbed his wrist in a death grip, holding him in place. "Don't you dare stop," she warned. Tony grinned. He inched his fingers closer to her core.

"That's a yes, then?"

"Tony!" Ziva hissed. "Why do you have to be so infuriati— Ahhh!"

A gasp escaped Ziva's lips as Tony ran his fingers through her folds, and she wasn't quite able to finish asking her question.

"Mmmm…" Tony hummed, feeling her wetness on his fingers. "Excited, are we?" he teased. The same question she had teased him with earlier in the evening.

"Can you blame me?" she returned. Same response.

Tony chuckled. "You were the one telling me to get off of you five minutes ago," he said, continuing to stroke her. She squirmed beneath him.

"We were losing our focus on the mission," she explained. "I felt it was best to remove ourselves from the situation."

"Yeah?" Tony smirked. "So how did we get here, then?" He dipped the tip of his finger into her entrance, teasing her. Delighting in the sounds she made.

"Because," Ziva started, trying to control her breathing. She looked at him, serious. "As much as I tried to fight it, I still very much wanted for you to fuck me."

Tony gulped, her words going straight to his still-rigid cock. He paused only for a moment before he slid one finger fully into her, and began to move it, deliberately. Ziva inhaled sharply, clutching at the sheets beneath her.

"Oh, yes…" she moaned, closing her eyes. Tony continued to stroke her inner walls, loving the sight of her. He had to admit, he got off on watching, too. He liked seeing her face delightfully contort, her hips arch off of the mattress, his fingers disappear inside of her. He added a second finger, to see what that would all look like, and Ziva reacted beautifully. He couldn't help but encourage her.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice low and rough, his fingers moving faster, now.

"Yes…" Ziva gasped.

"Tell me," Tony pressed. "Tell me what else you want."

"Faster," she returned. "More…" Tony complied, and couldn't help but smirk.

"That's it," he urged, watching her start to fall apart. He thrust his fingers deep inside of her, held them there, and used his thumb to rub at her swollen clit.

"Yes!" Ziva cried, a familiar intensity beginning to nip at her veins, a heat coiling deep within her. Tony stroked her assuredly, wanting so badly to take her there, to see her for real, this time. He could tell she was close. So close…

Suddenly, Ziva reached out and pressed her palm against the bulge in Tony's boxer shorts. He couldn't help but halt, gasping at the unexpected touch of her hand. She looked to him, her eyes dancing with hunger.

"This," she demanded. "I want this."