Chapter 1: Introduction
The Bullpen. A bustling hub of investigative activity, where evidence boards groaned under a decade's worth of mind-boggling crimes and the random coffee cup stains that went with it. And somewhere amidst the labyrinth of desks, screens, and paper trails trod NCIS Special Agents DiNozzo and David, teammates, colleagues, and sometimes—sparring partners.
Tony DiNozzo leaned back in his chair, the fabric protesting as he did so.
Tracing a line on the mug, he watched as Ziva’s gaze drifted from the murder board back to him.
Her lips quirked into a mischievous smile. “I think we make a great team, DiNozzo.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he drawled, raising one eyebrow. He loved messing with her, especially when they were alone.
“Is that right?”
She leaned forward, placing her arms on the table, hazel eyes pinning him. “These cases—they are never easy. Yet, I find I work better with you.”
“Are you saying I'm good-looking and charming?” Tony couldn’t resist quipping, relishing the indignant blush he was rewarded with.
They fell into a comfortable silence, their gazes still locked. He fought back the urge to reach out to her, to touch the silky strands of hair framing her face.
Instead, he took a sip of coffee, maintaining eye contact over the brim of the mug. The tension stretched between them, as dense and tangible as smoke.
"Maybe you just find me irresistible," Tony finally said, trying to keep his voice light, even as he could feel himself heating up in more ways than one.
Ziva rolled her eyes. "You wish."
But he saw through the façade. And he knew she saw right through his too. Finally, he surrendered to the attraction.
Tony moved in, closing the distance between them.
Ziva's breath hitched as he brushed a stray hair from her face before tracing her jawline with his fingers, savoring the warmth radiating from her skin. Her hazel eyes darkened, lips slightly parted, a silent invitation.
He could no longer resist the pull that had been building between them. Leaning in, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Her taste, a mix of coffee and pure Ziva, invaded his senses, making him hunger for more.
Ziva responded eagerly, her hands reaching up to tangle in his short brown hair.
His other hand slid down her neck, then drifted to her back, pulling her into him.
Clothes became nothing more than an inconvenient barrier. With trembling fingers, Tony undid the buttons of Ziva's blouse, revealing the soft skin underneath. She mirrored the action, stripping him of his shirt. They broke apart for a moment, both admiring the sight before them.
Slowly, deliberately, he traced the curve of her breasts, watching as goosebumps rose in their wake.
Ziva arched into his touch, her breath hitching as he gently pinched her nipples.
Her fingers clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin, leaving a trail of fire. The sweet sting of pain only fueled his desire.
His mouth found her neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. He needed more, wanted to taste every inch of her.
With urgent hands, they stripped off the rest of their clothes, strewing them carelessly on the floor.
Their kisses grew wilder, lips and tongues battling, seeking dominance.
Ziva's fingers explored Tony's muscular chest and torso, relishing his defined muscles, the soft dusting of hair, the way they contracted under her touch.
He groaned against her lips when she gripped his cock tightly, stroking it up and down.
Then he pushed her back onto the desk, her body bouncing slightly on impact.
Eagerly, his mouth found her nipples, teeth biting down gently while his tongue soothed the sting.
Ziva moaned, arching her back, pressing herself further into his eager embrace.
The desk creaked and rocked beneath them, a testament to their raw passion.
Papers scattered to the floor, but neither noticed. All that mattered was the fire burning between them, the need to claim and brand each other in the most primal way.
Tony's hand skimmed lower, fingers slipping between her folds. Discovering her wetness, he groaned a curse against her breasts.
He circled her clit with his thumb, relishing the way Ziva writhed beneath him, hips bucking and grinding against his hand.
Her gasps filled the air, mingled with the ambient sounds of their colleagues toiling away outside the bullpen. Each of Ziva's moans drove Tony further into madness, fueling his creation of a symphony of pleasure. He slipped one, then two fingers into her tight, slick sheath. Slowly, he started thrusting in and out, creating a delicious friction with each pump.
"Tony...
Oh, Tony," Ziva panted, hands gripping the edge of the desk. She rotated her hips in sync with his thrusts, grinding against him.
Tony removed his fingers, trailing them up to her clit. He began to stroke the swollen bud, eliciting a choked gasp from his lover. She tasted like heaven, and she felt like heaven.
He needed more, needed to bury himself inside her.
Gripping his cock, he guided himself to her entrance, teasing the slick opening.
"Now, Tony.
Please," Ziva pleaded, nails scratching against the desk as she arched her back, silently begging.
With a groan, he plunged forward, filling her tightly wound core with an exquisite, majestic force that made her see stars.
Their coupling was fervent, almost wild; they clung to each other like two people drowning, seeking solace in the mind-numbing rapture they created.
As he thrust in deep, he angled himself just right, hitting the perfect spot inside her. Ziva cried out, hips buckling.
Her body trembled with the force of her straining muscles and her overwhelming ecstasy.
Tony groaned, straining as he pushed deeper, each thrust eliciting moans and curse words from the both of them. Their breaths became ragged, heated whispers, cries and grunts, merging with the cacophony of keyboards, murmurs and footsteps from beyond the office doors.
There, amid the debris of their clothes and papers, they fulfilled their most primal desires.
As their lovemaking progressed, each movement felt like a symphony of pleasure.
Withdrawing slightly, he thrust in again, harder and deeper. Ziva's sheath clung to him greedily, pulsating at the delicious intrusion. The sensation was indescribable, an all-consuming bliss that drowned out all thoughts.
Her hands explored his chiseled body, muscles rippling under her palms. She grip his shoulder with one hand, digging into the warm, tanned flesh, while moving the other lower to where they were joined.
Tony watched, mesmerized as her fingers weaved through the mess of curls at the apex of her thighs. Her fingertips brushed his balls, and he shuddered.
"You like that?" she whispered, a playful smirk dancing at the corners of her mouth.
"Don't tempt me," he warned, plunging deeper inside her. He wasn't sure if he could hold back for long.
But Ziva had other plans.
She tightened her muscles around him, milking his cock as it slid deep within her. Her moan filled the room, igniting a surge of pure desire in Tony.
"Christ, Ziva!" He gritted his teeth, sweat trickling down his brow as he reined in the urge to pump relentlessly within her. Instead, he allowed her to set the pace, her hips meeting his in a well-rehearsed and passionate dance.
Their intertwined bodies created a sexy duet, punctuated by their stuttered breaths and sighs.
The room seemed to spin around them, a whirlpool of sheer carnality that threated to engulf them, leaving only a primal desire in its wake.
Withdrawing, Tony flipped Ziva onto her chest, then gently pushed her head down onto the desktop. The position arched her back, making her breasts press into the surface. Again, he drove himself into her, eliciting a gasp from Ziva.
Her fingers grasped at the edge of the table, knuckles white as she met his thrusts with equal vigor.
Tony's hips snapped forward, guided by a force greater than himself. He was an animal in heat, a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Gone were the charming quips and flirtatious remarks, burned away by the flames consuming them.
Each powerful lunge delivered him deeper into the sweet depths of her slick pussy. Their bodies moved in sync, creating a beautiful harmony.
"Goddammit, Ziva, you feel so fucking good," he growled, watching the erotic dance of their lovemaking.
His hand slipped beneath her, gripping her breast, kneading it before tweaking her nipple. She rewarded him with a low moan, hips undulating in a sinuous rhythm.
Their rough, abandoned thrusts sent papers flying and drawing sparse attention from other agents in the building. Not that either of them cared.
Tony could feel his orgasm rising, the pressure low in his belly building until it was like a damstraining to burst.
"Fuck, yes. Don't stop," Ziva pleaded, matching his pace.
Her wet, velvety walls enveloped his shaft completely, waves of pleasure pulsing through him. The sensation of their frantic coupling intensified, and shivers ran down his spine, culminating in delicious coils in his lower belly.
His fingers dug into her voluptuous hips, bruising the soft flesh, his thrusts getting ever more powerful.
Each time their bodies met, Ziva's breath hitched and moans escaped her lips, encouraging him to push harder, go faster, shatter her into a million pieces.
And in that moment, he owned her—every sigh, every gasp, every shuddering, earth-shattering orgasm belonged to him.
Leaning forward, Tony trailed kisses along her back, his mouth hot and wet against her skin. He nipped at her shoulder, just hard enough to make her gasp, then licked at the spot until he felt her muscles relax, signaling her surrender to the moment, to him.
Sliding one hand up to cup her breast, he squeezed gently, rolling her nipple between his fingers as he drove into her over and over again.
"God, DiNozzo!" she panted, her moans growing louder with each punishing thrust. It was as if she were drunk on pleasure, her inhibitions lost.
Tony couldn't resist; he wanted to taste her. In a sudden move, he pulled out and pushed her down to lie on the desk. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, but a moment later, her undeniable hunger reflected in their depths.
He spread her legs as wide as the desk allowed before diving in, burying his face between her thighs.
Ziva cried out in ecstasy, back bowing off the desk as his tongue connected with her clit. He lapped at her folds leisurely, the taste of her utterly intoxicating.
"Fuuuuck," she hissed, fingers sinking into his short hair as she clung to him desperately, urging him closer.
He obliged, swirling his tongue around and around, building a fire inside her that threatened to consume them both.
Ziva writhed beneath him, her hips bucking against his face as she begged for more, her breathy moans filling the room.
Tony continued his assault, his tongue flicking over her clit before teasing a path back down to her entrance. He pushed his tongue inside her, mimicking the rhythm his cock had set moments before.
Ziva squirmed under his touch, a symphony of gasps and whimpers escaping her parted lips. Her fingers tugged at his hair, hips grinding into his face as her climax approached.
"Tony, oh God, I'm close," she panted, her voice strained and shaky with desire.
With his tongue still torturing her clit, he slid two fingers inside her, the slick walls accommodating him easily. She was soaked—for him—and the knowledge only heightened his desire.
He curled his fingers against her G-spot, stroking with just enough pressure, waiting for the moment she lost control. Ziva's cries amplified, her thighs shuddering with the effort to keep still.
It took only a few more strokes of Tony's fingers until she screamed. A powerful orgasm overtook her, and her entire body trembled against the cold surface of the desk.
Tony didn't let up. He prolonged her cries by continuing to stroke her hypersensitive clit with his tongue. It wasn't until she begged him to stop, or she would pass out from the pleasure, that he pulled away.
Panting, Ziva lay there, a sheen of sweat on her forehead and her breasts rising and falling rapidly.
Her chestnut hair was disheveled, framing her face like a halo.
Tony rose, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Staring at her from head to toe, the sight of Ziva in the aftermath of their love-making created an image of depraved adoration that would forever be etched in his mind. He reached for his pants, fishing his wallet from the pocket.
A condom. He'd almost forgotten. No matter how well he knew her—knew they were exclusive—it remained a habit.
Always be prepared.
Tony ripped the square packet open and sheathed himself. Crawling back between her legs, he paused to take in the sight of Ziva spread out before him: her hair a beautiful mess, her chest heavy with labored breaths, and her eyes dazed.
He positioned himself at her entrance, then slowly sank into her tender warmth. The sensation was pure, orgasmic relief.
The feeling intensified as they reconnected, the rhythm maddeningly slow and deliberate.
He thrust in, then retreated, his body flush against hers, their breaths mingled together.
Ziva's hands snaked around his neck, nails scraping lightly against his skin. An unspoken command to move faster.
Tony complied, unable to resist her. The pace grew feverish, their bodies slapping together roughly, skin melding in places where fluids met flesh.
She whimpered as he pounded into her, pleasure igniting every nerve ending.
His shaft slid in and out, the wet, slick sounds echoing through the bullpen. Oblivious to the world around them, they became lost in each other.
Every thrust brought them closer, their breaths mingling in ragged gasps. Ziva's legs wrapped tighter around him, heels digging into his ass.
"Fuck, Ziva. I can't get enough of you," Tony grunted, sweat dripping down his forehead as he drove into her again and again.
The words were slurred, but it didn't matter.
Not when their bodies were in perfect synch, moving as one as if they'd been lovers for decades instead of weeks.
Their rhythm sped up, sweat-slicked skin sliding together as they raced towards their release.
Balls slapping against fleshy lips, the grunts and gasps reverberating through the bullpen, it was a symphony of primal lust and desire.
In the midst of this delirious coupling, Tony's grip on his wavering control unraveled like a cheap thread.
Ziva's tight, wet sheath clung to his cock, every pulse and throb driving him further over the edge. Her breathy cries of pleasure spilled into the air, each enticing utterance bringing him closer to the edge.
"Oh, yes, Tony!" Ziva cried out, her body trembling beneath his as his pace steadily quickened.
Each punishing thrust met with her urging, like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, and Tony was her life raft.
"You're mine," he growled, his voice husky with desire. "Say it."
"Yours," she whimpered, nails digging into his back. "Only yours, Tony."
Ziva's declaration sent a shiver down his spine, a jolt of electricity that surged straight to his throbbing cock.
His thrusts grew more insistent—hard, punishing, claiming. Every inch of his length filled her completely, their bodies slapping together in a frantic tempo.
This endless dance of flesh and passion, born from their fiery souls became the only constant in twin whirlwinds of urgent, animalistic desire and deep-seated need.
Her name, tinged with urgency and yearning, fell from his lips like a prayer, as if it held the power to shatter his resolve and free his raging cock from the confines of the latex barrier.
Tony was on the verge—clinging to the precipice of a shuddering climax that threatened to consume him.
With each brutal thrust, his sac slapped against Ziva's dripping pussy, drawing a wanton moan from her.
"Oh, fuck, you're so goddamn tight, baby," Tony panted, sweat dripping from his brow as he felt fire coursing through his veins, singeing every cell in his body.
Ziva's response was a strangled whimper, desperate and filled with fire. Her nails gouged Tony's back, urging him on, wanting every glorious inch of him.
The primal dance escalated, limbs tangling as their shared lust took over. Tony's thrusts turned erratic, desperate, frantic - his release mere moments away.
"Yes, yes," Ziva chanted, meeting him stroke for stroke. Her thighs squeezed him like a vise, nails clawing from his back to dig into his flexing ass. Every muscle in his body coiled tightly, the tension reaching a fever pitch, before the inevitable release.
With an animalistic roar, Tony slammed into Ziva one final time.
His orgasm exploded through him, a storm of shudders and tremors. Fireworks, starbursts, a nuclear explosion—however he could personify the indescribable pleasure ripping through him in that moment, it wouldn't do justice to the overwhelming sensation of release.
Ziva's entire body went rigid, trembling, as she too succumbed to her own climax. Dimly, he heard her choke out his name as a hoarse plea, a helpless cry, a prayer of gratitude and ecstasy.
Hearing her surrender triggered his own release. He buried himself deep inside her as he exploded, pumping shot after shot of hot white cum into the condom.
The intensity of the climax left him panting and lightheaded; a sweet rapture tinged with pure exhaustion from the multiple rounds of gripping pleasure. His thrusts gradually slowed, losing both momentum and strength until his body came to a shuddering halt, buried inside her to its hilt.
A satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He looked like a sated, thoroughly debauched man who had gotten what he wanted, yet his eyes gleamed with something else. Something more than carnal satisfaction: he had seen her come undone, he had helped her reach the brink, and he had tethered her to the edge of pleasure.
For several seconds, they remained locked together in their post-coital embrace, sweating bodies still entwined, lungs heaving in sync.
Their breaths tickled, caressed, and provided a gentle intimacy under the circumstances.
"Next time, I think I'm going to tie you up against that desk and have my wicked way with you," Tony murmured against Ziva's neck, causing her to giggle. Even after the hot and heavy session, his charm managed to seep through.
"Oh really, Mr. DiNozzo? Do you think you have what it takes?" she challenged playfully as she maneuvered herself from under him. They were still lying on the desk, side by side when they looked up to see McGee, with a dropped jaw.
Shit. They hadn't even noticed the door opening, let alone the fact that another agent had come in. They jumped apart quickly.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone then," McGee mumbled, turning beet red and awkwardly backing out of the room.
"Timothy!" Ziva called out before the door closed completely. "Wait."
McGee hesitated but didn't leave, holding the door open.
"Would you mind getting us some coffee?" Ziva asked, suppressing a smile as she glanced at Tony.
Tony barely spared him a second glance before nodding. "Yeah, sure. Black, no sugar."
Once the door clicked shut, Ziva swiveled to face Tony, leaning back against the desk. Her hair sprawled out around her like a dark halo and she couldn't help but feel pretty as his gaze lingered on her lips.
Tony pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared. "Well, I guess that answers my question about what McGee thought."
Ziva raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"You think he doesn't already know what we do, Tony? We work in a bullpen. Sounds of…passion, let's say, can carry. And you do have quite a reputation."
Tony gaped at her for a moment, his cheeks a bright shade of crimson. "Oh, come on, you make me sound like a horny teenager. Besides, I can't help it if women can't resist my charm."
Ziva rolled her eyes and slid off the desk.
"Well, perhaps those encounters were just warm-ups compared to what we've just done."
Tony chuckled, unable to argue with that logic as he sat up fully. "Fair point. But it's nice to know that our flirtatious repartee hasn't gone unnoticed."
As they both began adjusting their clothing, an awkward silence fell over them. They avoided eye contact, remembering fully well the blunder they had just made—their colleagues now aware of their torrid affair.
Surely, this would be the talk of the office, the subject of hushed whispers and secretive glances. As much as they tried to ignore it, the weight of this revelation settled heavily on their shoulders. Their lovemaking, once free and joyful, transformed into something laced with guilt and trepidation as they lingered in the reality of their surroundings.
"I suppose we should get back to work," Ziva finally broke the silence. Her hands hovered self-consciously around the buttons of her blouse, covering the remnants of their passionate tryst.