Chapter 1: Smoke and Sparks
The air behind the convention hall was thick with the musky scent of weed as Saima, draped in a scandalously sheer saree that clung to her curves like a lover’s caress, passed the joint to Faris. Her dark eyes glinted with mischief under the dim streetlight, the fabric of her outfit leaving little to the imagination as it shimmered over her toned thighs and dipped low at her waist.
“Careful, Faris,” she purred, her voice a sultry tease as she exhaled a plume of smoke. “You keep staring like that, and people might think you’re undressing me with your eyes.”
Faris, tall and rugged with a smirk that could melt steel, took a long drag, his gaze never leaving her. “Who says I’m not? That saree’s practically begging me to rip it off.”
Saima laughed, sharp and confident, stepping closer so the heat of her body brushed against his. “Dream on, pretty boy. You couldn’t handle me even if you tried.”
“Oh, I’d handle you just fine,” he shot back, his voice low and dangerous, the high starting to curl through his veins, making every word feel heavier, hotter. “Question is, can you keep up?”
The buzz hit them both as they slipped back into the hall, joining the endless line to greet the bride and groom. The crowd pressed in, a sea of chatter and perfume, but all Faris could focus on was Saima’s proximity. His hand found the small of her back, fingers tracing the exposed skin just above her saree’s waistline. She tensed, a sharp intake of breath betraying her cool exterior.
“Faris, behave,” she hissed, though her tone was more playful than scolding. “We’re in public.”
“Public’s overrated,” he murmured, his thumb dipping lower, brushing the curve of her ass through the thin fabric. “I can feel how hot you’re getting already. Don’t pretend you’re not dripping for me.”
Saima’s eyes flashed with a mix of annoyance and undeniable heat. “You’re insufferable,” she snapped, but her body betrayed her, pressing subtly against his touch. The high amplified every sensation, her skin prickling with need as his fingers teased her. She bit her lip, fighting the wave of desire pooling between her thighs. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna—”
“Gonna what?” he challenged, leaning in so his breath grazed her ear. “Drag me somewhere and show me who’s boss? I’m waiting, Saima.”
That was it. She couldn’t take it anymore. With a quick glance to ensure no one was watching, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of the line, weaving through the crowd with purpose. Her heart raced, her pussy already wet and aching as she pulled him behind the stage, the heavy curtains shielding them from prying eyes.
The second they were out of view, Faris didn’t waste a moment. He pinned her against the wall, his hard body pressing into hers, his cock already straining through his trousers against her thigh. “Told you I’d handle you,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips as he hiked up the saree, exposing her bare legs.
Saima smirked, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Shut up and prove it, then,” she taunted, her voice dripping with challenge. “I’m not some delicate flower. Fuck me like you mean it.”
And with that, the air between them ignited, promising a rough, sweaty collision of lust and need, their panting breaths already mingling as they teetered on the edge of losing control completely.
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