AN: THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW (RATED M)! If you would prefer not to read this, skip to the next chapter!

"Are you crying?" he asked with a smile on his face as he glanced at her. He watched her sniffle slightly, as her eyes remained fixated on the television screen.

She was cuddled tightly into his body, with his arm wrapped around her and her head resting gently on his chest; her ear pressed close to his heart, listening to the steady beating.

They had spent the majority of the movie like this, exchanging stolen glances and soft kisses while they pretended to watch whatever scene was happening in front of them… though truthfully, all they could think about was each other.

"No," she replied, wiping her nose on the collar of her (his - but now it belonged to her) shirt and glancing up at him. His fingers traced patterns on her bare arms, sending a shiver across her skin as her hairs stood on end. She silently cursed herself for being so affected by his touch.

"Liar," he teased. She could feel his eyes settle on her. Moments later, she tilted her head up to look at him, their eyes locking. Her breath hitched and her heart thumped loudly in her chest as his attention flickered across her face, examining her features. Though it was not the first time they had been like this, this time it felt… different.

She bit her lip, the corners of them curving upwards as she leaned up to kiss him, slowly. Her lips were warm and soft against his own, and he smiled into the kiss as she pressed herself closer, which for Ziva, still wasn't close enough. Her hands roamed his chest and her fingers lingered for a moment, before she slowly started to unbutton his shirt.

"Ziva?" he asked as he pulled away for a moment, their lips hovering over each other. She did not answer him with words and instead pressed another kiss to his mouth, before wriggling out from his arm and maneuvering herself so she was straddling his lap. "What are you-"

His words were cut off by the motion of her pressing a kiss below his ear in a spot that made his entire body tingle. He let out a breathy sigh of satisfaction as her lips trailed kisses down his jaw, before she placed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. Her fingers successfully undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and she was about to untuck it from his pants when his hands stopped her, catching her wrists.

"Ziva?" he asked, knowing exactly where things were leading. She raised her head, looking at him. "Isn't it too soon?"

She let out a chuckle of amusement. "Tony… we are having a baby together. You are aware of how that happens, yes?

A smirk played on his lips. "I am. But I don't want to rush this."

"I think we are three months too late to be having that conversation."

He sighed with a smile. "You know what I mean. I don't want to screw this up." She raised an eyebrow to him, waiting for the pun and quip about how screwing got them into their current predicament. But, she was surprised when his expression remained serious; no hint of a joke in sight.

She sighed. "So you don't want to have sex?"

He chuckled. "I do, very much."

"But?" she patted his chest lightly.

"Are we… ready for that? I mean, it's only our first date."

She tilted her head slightly, looking at him confused. The pitter patter of rain on the windows became more apparent as the silence engulfed them, the credits of the movie fading out to a blank screen. "Since when has having sex on a first date ever bothered you?"

"It hasn't," he replied.

"So, why is it bothering you now?"

"Ziva," he averted her eyes from her momentarily as he gathered his things. "The only reason I slept with women on first dates is because I knew I was never going to see them again." He cringed at his words, repulsed at the behavior he had engaged in, in his younger years. So much of his thirties had consisted of one night stands and three day weekends, with women who were just looking for a good time. Of course, he'd had a few girlfriends throughout — one undercover, and a few not so much. But none of the real relationships ever lasted more than a few months, after being ended by him, or whomever he was dating. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure he knew how to have a healthy relationship. Then again, he supposed, neither did Ziva. The men she had dated during the time that he had known her, had consistently screwed her over. She had never really been loved.

"Tony," she sighed, with a small smile. "Whether we do this on our first date or our fiftieth… we are together, yes?"

"Together as in…"

"A couple."

He reached his hand up to cup her face. "I thought we were going to wait until after tonight to decide what we are."

She shrugged. "What if I don't want to… wait, I mean? I think we have done enough of it, and I just really want to be with you."

He paused for a moment, contemplating her words, and his eyes twinkled as he flashed her a grin. He pulled her toward him, his mouth covering hers in desperation at holding everything he had ever wanted in his hands. The taste of lemonade lingered as she slipped her tongue into his mouth; his free hand settling gently on her waist. She moaned as his fingers slipped beneath her t-shirt, softly caressing the skin just above the waistband of the sweatpants.

Her hands roamed his chest before finally untucking his shirt from his pants, and sliding it off his shoulders. She pulled away to drop a kiss to his collarbone before turning her attention to his neck. His eyes fluttered shut as she placed open-mouthed kisses along his neck, and he sighed with satisfaction at how good her lips felt against his skin. She hovered for a moment, her breath warm, before she kissed the spot between his jaw and ear, which she remembered had driven him wild the last time she had done it. She smiled against his skin when she heard the small moan slip from his lips.

"If you keep that up, this is going to be over really quickly," he mumbled, and he heard her chuckle into the crook of his neck. She brought her lips back to his, and he leaned forward allowing her to entirely remove the shirt from his body; it pooling around his waist in a pile on the couch. His hands softly moved further up her back, his fingers splayed. Though they had been like this many times before, it still surprised her how he touched her so delicately. It was never hurried or in a way that satisfied himself or his own needs. It was always in a way that felt good for her, and she didn't think she'd ever had a man pay such careful attention to the things that she liked.

He pulled away, one of his hands reaching to hold her head; his fingertips tangled in her hair as he kissed her neck, a small sigh escaping her. He smiled against her skin when she tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access, and her eyes closed. Her hands glided to his hair, her fingers curling around the strands and softly tugging; a sign he had come to understand meant she was enjoying what was happening, and for him not to stop. He glided his lips across her skin, to suck on the spot just below her ear, which made her gasp. She tugged his hair harder and he increased the pressure, almost certain that his lips were going to leave a mark against her skin come morning.

He pulled back and her eyes opened, as he met her gaze; his hands sliding to the front of her shirt and gently tugging on the hem, asking for permission. She raised her arms above her head, smiling at him, as he swooped it off her, throwing it haphazardly to the side of him. He inhaled sharply, taking in the sight of her. Though it had only been three months since they had last been like this, his eyes cast over her body slowly, examining every inch of her like it was the first time. His eyes fixated on her stomach, and he began to trace her curves with his pupils. The smallest of bumps was slightly visible — but not enough for anyone to notice. In fact, unless you were looking for it in the way he was, you wouldn't have known at all. A lopsided grin appeared on his face as his hands settled on her lower back, and she gulped, her breathing heavy, when he leaned forward to trail feather light kisses across her abdomen.

"Oh," she breathed, butterflies swirling in her stomach. He paused, hesitating, unsure how his next move would be received (she would either love it and kiss him, or hate it and hit him… both entirely valid possibilities.) He dragged the tip of his tongue across her stomach before he dipped into her navel, which he followed with a kiss; and the way she practically yanked his mouth towards hers told him that she liked it very much. He grinned into the kiss as her hands slid to his waist, her fingertips dancing over the waistband of his trousers. He pulled away, looking at her.

"Are we sure we want to do this here?"

She raised her eyebrows confused. Her lips were rosy and swollen from his kisses, something which he couldn't deny he took a lot of satisfaction in. "Here?"

"As in the couch. I mean it's kind of… unromantic isn't it?" he laughed.

"More unromantic than a single bed where we can just about cuddle?"

"Yes?" Kiss. "No?" Kiss. "Maybe?" Kiss.

She laughed. Kiss. "And besides, is a couch worse than a countertop?" she asked, remembering how he had hoisted her up onto the counter in the kitchen of the farmhouse, and dipped his head between her legs, in an attempt (and a very successful one), to make her see stars.

"I guess not," he laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that slipped out of place. "I just… I don't want this to be disappointing."

"The only way that could happen is if you keep talking and kill the mood," she half-sighed with a smile.

"Noted," he slightly nodded, smirking. She dipped her head to place a kiss against his mouth, her tongue melding with his; the taste of peanuts and chocolate lingering.

Her fingers struggled with his belt, and his hands came to help her, unbuckling it as fast as he could and allowing her to pull it free. She tossed it aside and it landed on the floor with a thud; the metal buckle clanking.

She stood, unzipping his pants and hooking her fingers beneath the waistband, pulling them down until they pooled around his ankles; Tony unable to control the grin that spread across his face. His hands returned to her back, bringing her body closer to his mouth, so he could plant kisses along the curve of her hip and pelvis, before he was curving his fingertips over the waistband of her sweatpants, and slowly dragging them down her legs, his caress light as a feather against her skin as he did so. Her body tingled; involuntarily reacting to his touch. There was always something deeply erotic about his hands on her skin, that made her breath hitch and her mind cloudy so she was unable to think straight. This feeling was amplified when he held her hips and brought his lips close to her center, pressing a kiss to her core over the cotton fabric that covered it. She resisted the urge to fist his hair and hold his face there, because the devilish look in his eyes as he peered up at her, told her that he had his own plan for how things were about to happen.

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin directly above her panties which made her stomach flutter, while his hands slipped beneath the cotton to rest gently on her ass. In a swift maneuver, he slid the panties halfway down her legs, her sex exposed to him. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes looking up at her; their gaze meeting. Her heart raced in her chest with anticipation, as she knew what came next. His fingers lightly dug into her, pulling her closer at just the right angle he wanted. His lips hovered above her, his breath warm against her core, but not quite touching her. Heavy breaths escaped her as she waited…

His hands glided to her front. And then, his thumbs parted her folds, his fingertips lightly tracing over the shape of her sex, before dipping his tongue into her slit. She jerked suddenly at the contact and a moan filled the air as the tip of his tongue circled her clit, before his lips covered it, lightly sucking. Her hands automatically gripped onto his hair, raking her fingers through it as her pulse quickened, while his tongue explored, knowing exactly what she liked and wanted. The thing she had come to learn in all the times they had been together, was that he paid very careful attention to how her body reacted beneath his touch.

A curse word slipped from her mouth in a language Tony didn't recognise, and he inwardly grinned to himself. He kissed and sucked her nub, her hands curling in his hair more forcefully as she let out a shaky breath. Though it wasn't the first time he had done this to her, it was the first time he had done it while she was standing, and holy shit, did it feel amazing. "Fuck," she cursed, accidentally, her fingers absentmindedly massaging his scalp as he sucked on her clit. Her slow, steady breaths turned into intermittent pants as he continued, and her knees almost buckled beneath her when he added his finger; a wave of arousal rushing over her. Her hands left his hair and came to rest against the back of the couch as the fire slowly began to ignite in her stomach, creeping across her pelvis. Her moans grew louder - probably to the displeasure of his neighbour across the hall, who would certainly be able to hear her if she stepped close to the front door - though the thought didn't dissuade Tony in the slightest. In fact, the way Ziva's body reacted beneath him, and the sheer pleasure he knew she was on the brink of, was enough to encourage him further; and he would smugly welcome the disapproving glare of Mrs. Patterson when she ran into him in the hallway next.

Ziva's fingers dug into the couch as her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling erratically as she bit her lip to try and stifle her moaning; though her attempt was futile. She perhaps wondered if it was almost impossible for her to remain quiet when Tony loved her like this, as in all the times she had tried (even with him gently covering her mouth as they had quick, frantic friends-with-benefits sex in a ghastly pumpkin-coloured men's room), she hadn't ever been able to resist screaming. Oh… fuck… yes…

Her fingers curled further into the fabric as she rolled her hips against his mouth; his finger sliding out of her so his hands could settle on her hips, and hold her in position as his tongue swirled and his mouth sucked every inch of her. She closed her eyes, her clit throbbing and swelling, her juices slowly pooling around his lips.

"I'm-" she croaked out, breathlessly; her body on the verge of ecstasy, seconds before an explosion of her taste came quick and fast on his tongue. She let out an almost defeating guttural moan, that she had quietly been suppressing in the base of her throat for as long as she could.

When she opened her eyes, panting hard, she found him grinning up at her, devilishly, with a smug smirk on his face. His eyes sparkled as his hand cupped her face, pulling her down to him to kiss her deeply; the taste of herself lingering on his tongue. When they pulled away, her lips found his jaw, her mouth placing open-mouthed across it, down his neck, and across his collarbone; each one eliciting a sigh of satisfaction from him. She dragged her lips across his ear, softly nipping his earlobe with her teeth, before sucking on it; a move that surprised him greatly, but caused to moan in response.

Her hands roamed his chest, sliding up his torso to the back of his neck when she brought her lips back to his, missing the feeling of his tongue in her mouth. He smiled into her kiss as he felt her hand leave his upper body to softly caress the inside of his thigh; her fingertips tracing light circles closer and closer to his groin, in a way that caused his breath to quicken. His cock twitched, already hard and aroused from the way he had made her come; a feeling only exacerbated when her thumb lightly brushed the tip, her fingertips in search of his length.

She pulled herself from his kiss, sucking on his pulse point, and it took all of him not to spontaneously combust right there and then. His heartbeat raced in his chest and only skyrocketed when she parted her legs wider and slowly guided him to her entrance, her entire body sinking onto his cock in a way that made him groan, and his eyes roll back into his head.

"Jesus," he strained out, as she began to roll their hips together, slowly at first and gradually increasing the pace, until she found a steady rhythm that she liked, the friction against her clit just right. As she moved, his lips found her right breast; his lips closing around her nipples and sucking lightly, before he pressed kisses across her chests and repeated the motion with the other. His hands slid from her waist, tracing the curves of her body until they too reached her breasts; his lips coming to kiss her neck, as he took her nipples between his fingers, his thumbs lightly caressing circles over them.

When she moved even faster, his hands returned to her hips to keep her steady, gently pushing her further onto him to increase the pressure; the two of them moaning and panting in unison at the sheer pleasure their conjoined bodies gave them.

Her cheeks flushed and she felt her skin begin to prickle as he thrust into her, her hands coming to cover his own. He lightly lifted them from her skin and she intertwined their hands; her fingers clenching around his as her moans grew louder and more continuous, echoing through the apartment as they intertwined with his heavy breathing, and several low groans that unintentionally slipped from his lips.

He kissed her — hard, as her hips clenched around him, and he continued to pound into her in the way they both wanted and needed in that very moment; her body practically begging him to drive them to the edge of the cliff, of which they could both fall over the edge.

"I'm coming," she muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper as he continued to bury himself into her, their bodies moving in unison.

And then, several thrusts later, her knuckles turned white as her hands clasped his, her body convulsing on top of him. Her legs shook and he watched as her pupils dilated, the orgasm washing over; and he continued to thrust, wanting to elongate it for her as long as he possibly could. She moaned his name, trembling around him, before she heard him groan against her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck; his own body close to nirvana.

She leant her body back, arching her spine as much as she could, her legs still shaking as she rode him to his climax; the sheer sight of her enough to cause his cock to pulsate inside her thick, hot, walls. Her name slipped from his lips as he closed his eyes, and titled his head back, spilling into her; his legs trembling underneath her body, and an "oh fuck" echoing through the living room. She stilled her movements, letting him come, his chest rising and falling in quick succession; the only sound, his heavy breathing.

She returned her body to an upright position, running her hands through his sweaty hair and bringing herself down to kiss him.

"Holy shit, Ziva," he whispered against her mouth as he lightly pulled apart, smiling at her. In all the times they had slept together, it had never felt that good. But perhaps that was the difference between sex and making love - the deep connection they had spent nearly a decade growing only heightened every intimate act.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, closing her eyes, and he pressed a light kiss to her collarbone. God, he loved her. He really fucking loved her.

When she finally raised her head, her eyes sparkled at him and she smiled. "So," she said, as she attempted to regain her breath, "on a scale of one to ten, where does this rank in first dates?"

He chuckled, pressing a slow kiss to her lips. "Sweetcheeks," he replied, breathlessly, "this is entirely off the scale."