First, an apology to those reviewing the story. Unfortunately, the site is not sending me reviewing or updated chapters of stories including my own!!! I do appreciate all of you reading and reviewing. Like Tony getting growled at and headslapped, it makes me feel wanted. Hopefully, my reviews and updated chapters will return soon. Heavy sigh... I am reading the reviews by going to my URL on the fanfic site. Thanks again!

Second, to VerityFrancesB who loves the smut.

Here for the Party

-5

Ziva slammed into her apartment. She felt like she going to burst out of her skin. She stood in the middle of her living room gritting her teeth, clenching her hands into fists. She was Mossad. She controlled her emotions. She would not let Tony bring her down and not even know he did it. What the hell was wrong with her?

She went into her bedroom sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her long suede boots, holding them in her hands for a moment before throwing them across the room. One of them knocked a chip of paint from the wall as it hit. She buried her head in her hands. She wanted to scream, cry, hit something. Shaking her head violently she stood up and ripped off her top and then pushed her tight pants down and stepped out of them. That's when she heard the creak of her apartment door.

Tony waited all of three minutes after he'd parked his car before he decided he needed to see what was keeping Ziva. He whistled tunelessly as he made his way into the building but his good mood vanished when he saw the door to the apartment was not quite closed. Drawing his gun he pushed the door the rest of the way and looked quickly to his left and right. No signs of a struggle. No noise from the rest of the apartment. He debated whether or not to call out to Ziva but decided against it. If something was hinky he didn't want to give anyone warning he was there.

He walked silently to the door of Ziva's bedroom trying to see into the dark. He saw a pile of clothes, probably what Ziva had been wearing, at the foot of her bed. Carefully, he entered the room listening for any sound, watching for any movement. Suddenly he felt his arm grabbed and he went flying across the room to land on Ziva's king-sized bed, his head hanging off the side. He saw a pair of naked legs coming toward him.

Ziva saw the shadow of the gun first then the tip of the barrel. She smiled. This might be just what she needed – the chance to beat someone into a bloody pulp. As the gun advanced into the room and a hand and arm followed, she grabbed the arm and pulled the man, and it was a man, into the room using his own forward impetus and body weight against him.

She leapt on top of him where he lay stunned on the bed and held her knife at his throat. She pushed the point deep enough to indent the skin then she saw his face.

Tony felt something sharp at his throat and tried to swallow pass the knife tip. He looked up at the face of the person straddling him expecting the worse and it was the worse. It was Ziva. Her teeth bared in a snarl. Her hair wildly disordered around her head giving her a dark nimbus. She looked extremely pissed.

Her face was only inches from his and as she shifted position a little he noticed she seemed to be nude. He tried to lift his head up to confirm his suspicions but she held the knife steady at his Adam's apple. He smiled a big smile hoping she would remove the knife. He moved to lift his hands and perhaps verify by tactile means she was naked but she pushed the blade a little closer and whispered.

"Do not move, Tony. I am trying to decide whether to kill you or just castrate you."

His smile vanished.

Tony's eyes opened wide when Ziva told him not to move. She was so mad at him she could hardly breathe. All the teasing, all the taunting, all the pain he had caused her over the years bubbled up in her and she gritted her teeth against the urge she felt to hurt him back. He must have seen it in her eyes because he shifted under her and she immediately gave him her full attention again.

She felt his long, hard body between her spread legs as she knelt up with knees on either side of him on the bed, the width of him forcing her to strain a little to keep the position. She relaxed a bit and her bottom touched him and just that fast, in an instant, the anger turned to lust. She gasped at the sensation sweeping her body. She couldn't take a deep breath.

Tony must have sensed what happened, maybe saw her eyes dilate in the partial lamplight coming from the living room, because he started smiling again and went to touch her.

"Do not touch me, Tony. You will regret it," she said.

She sat back and was rewarded by his reaction as he took in the sight of her naked torso, nipples hard, jutting out toward him. She watched him lick his lips, eyeing her warily.

"Ziva," he said in a hoarse whisper, "what's going on? Let me up and we'll talk about it, okay?"

He held his hands up a few inches from the bed in a gesture of peace.

She said, "No!" and then bent back down and kissed him hard, probably hurting his lips, but she didn't care. When he tried to put his arms up again, she moved the knife. He lay still.

Smiling while keeping the sharp tip at his throat she reached down with her other hand and undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and then unzipped the zipper. Tony took in a ragged breath, his eyes even wider if possible. She lifted her body up, off him, making sure the knife stayed in contact with his skin and then once again using her free hand pushed his pants and boxers down several inches, telling him with her eyes to lift his hips. The boxers were difficult. His penis stood erect despite his fear and that was exactly how she wanted him.

He didn't know what to do. She held the knife steady while she undressed him, freeing his erection. What the hell? Had she gone absolutely crazy? Now he really didn't know what to do. He wanted to fight her back but feared the consequences because he didn't want to hurt her and he sure as hell didn't want her to hurt him. He wanted to roll her over and make love to her until she screamed. He wanted to get up and run out of the apartment, pants flapping around his ankles. He did none of those things, he just lay there with his hands out to his sides and watched Ziva's every movement.

He saw her lift her luscious butt off of him and slide back a little, still being very steady with the knife. She looked at him as she positioned herself over his penis, holding it steady with her free hand while slowly lowering herself onto him. His breath came out in a huff and he closed his eyes at the feel of her; hot, wet, tight, slick. The skin of his penis seemed to burn from her heat as she settled all the way down its length. He saw her close her eyes then but she opened them again right away, before he could move. She lifted herself up again and then slowly slid back down his length her eyes never leaving his face the knife still held close to his neck.

Somewhere in her mind the Ziva voice of reason was yelling at her, asking her what did she think she was doing? This was Tony. Her partner. The man she rode now in slow undulations of increasing pleasure was her partner and she was basically raping him at knife point. But the other part of Ziva's mind, the now in-total-control part of her mind wasn't saying anything at all. It just reveled in the way he filled her, in the ache that grew second by second as the tension built toward release. She shut the reasonable Ziva down and continued her slow build toward orgasm.

Tony watched her. The golden hoops in her ears swayed back and forth as she moved, catching glints in the light. Her rhythm was becoming uneven. Her grip on the knife had slackened and finally it dropped to the bed at his side. Both her hands were on his chest now supporting her as she moved up and down, her thigh muscles tensing and relaxing at his sides. She moaned loudly and rolled her head, arching her back in her pleasure. As she did her long dark curls hung down brushing his body lightly and he couldn't not touch her any longer.

Cautiously he put his hands on either side of her hips as she continued her ride on top of him. When she did nothing painful to him he tightened his grip and began to thrust up in counterpoint to her movements. Her eyes looked into his but he didn't see the angry woman who'd thrown him on the bed anymore; he saw a woman deep in the throes of passion and it almost made him lose control. Almost.

Her eyes closed and she began to move faster, erratically and he controlled her with his hands, bending his knees slightly now to help him push into her, forcing himself as deep as he could. He felt her internal muscles quivering and he knew she had to be close. He took one hand away from her hips and reached between them, rubbing his thumb gently back and forth over her clitoris. She let out a loud moan and her hands closed on his shirt in fists, pulling some chest hairs; the minor pain only adding to his excitement. She ground herself against him and moaned again and then he felt her spasms milking him. He couldn't hold back anymore. He put both hands back on her hips and held her close as he thrust hard into her 3, 4 times and then shuddered with his own release.

She collapsed on top of him.