A Night of Untamed Fire
#1
A Night of Untamed Fire

By Alizabeth Alex

The loft pulsed with raw energy, a chaotic symphony of thumping bass, clinking glasses, and laughter that swirled like a heady perfume. Fairy lights strung across the high ceilings cast a golden glow, illuminating faces flushed with wine and desire. Aliza stood by the bar, her fingers nervously twisting the stem of a martini glass, her red crop top clinging to her curves, accentuating the soft dip of her waist. Her black skirt, scandalously short, hugged her hips, the hem teasing her thighs with every subtle shift. Her dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, and her hazel eyes scanned the room, sparkling with a restless ache, as if searching for a spark to ignite the fire simmering beneath her skin.
Across the crowded space, Dax leaned against a brick wall, his presence magnetic, commanding despite his casual stance. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a jawline sharp enough to cut through the noise, he exuded a dangerous allure. His black shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a glimpse of his chiseled chest, and his dark eyes locked onto Aliza, a predator spotting prey. A pull stirred in him, raw and soulful, like the haunting strains of Arijit Singh’s “Tum Hi Ho.” He pushed off the wall, weaving through the throng, his gaze fixed on her, unwavering.

"Having fun, or just pretending?” he asked, his voice a low, husky drawl, dripping with mischief as he stopped beside her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body.

Aliza’s breath caught, her cheeks flushing a soft pink as her eyes darted to his, then quickly to the floor. God, he’s gorgeous… too much, she thought, her pulse racing like a Bollywood ballad. Her fingers fidgeted with a strand of her hair, a shy gesture, as she leaned slightly toward him, her body betraying her quiet longing. “Maybe a bit of both,” she murmured, her voice soft, nearly lost in the music’s thrum.

He grinned, a flash of white teeth that promised trouble. “I’m Dax. And you’re…?” His gaze roamed her slowly, from the curve of her neck to the way her red top hugged her breasts, his eyes darkening with unapologetic hunger.

“Aliza,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands smoothing the hem of her skirt nervously. Why does he make me feel so… exposed? Her hazel eyes sparkled, catching the light as they flickered to his soft, pink lips, then away, her blush deepening.

Their conversation flowed like a river, effortless yet charged with electric heat. He teased her about her love for soulful Bollywood tracks, and she laughed, her eyes softening as she confessed her obsession with Arijit Singh’s voice. “It’s like he sings my heart,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, her fingers brushing her collarbone. Dax leaned closer, his breath grazing her ear. “Maybe I’ll make your heart sing tonight,” he whispered, his tone a dark promise that sent goosebumps rippling across her arms.

Aliza’s thighs pressed together, her cheeks burning as she averted her gaze. What is he doing to me? she thought, her body swaying toward him, drawn to his confidence like a moth to flame. The party faded into a blur, their banter a private dance, each remark from Dax making her heart flutter, her eyes sparkling with shy desire. When he suggested they escape to his apartment nearby, her pulse spiked. She nodded, her fingers trembling as she tucked her hair behind her ear, her hazel eyes heavy with want, silently screaming yes.

His apartment was a sleek oasis, a stark contrast to the party’s chaos—dark wood floors, minimalist furniture, and a floor-to-ceiling window showcasing the city’s glittering skyline. Aliza stood by the window, her silhouette framed against the night, her red top catching the moonlight, her black skirt riding up slightly as she shifted nervously. Dax watched her, his eyes predatory, reading every tremble of her frame. “You look like trouble,” he said, stepping closer, his voice a dark, velvet growl. “The kind that stirs the pot and begs to be tamed.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, a soft gasp escaping as she crossed her arms over her chest, a shy shield against his intensity. Keep going… please, she thought, her body softening, hips tilting toward him. “Maybe I am,” she whispered, her voice quivering, her eyes sparkling with a mix of fear and longing.

Dax’s grin was wicked, his fingers brushing her arm, sending sparks across her skin. “You’re stirring up a sweet storm, darlin’,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “I’d start slow, savoring every inch of you, my lips teasing that honey pot of yours, tasting your juices—warm honey, dripping, fucking intoxicating.” Goosebumps erupted across her arms, her hands trembling as she clutched her skirt, her body arching slightly. I need you deeper, she thought, her hazel eyes fluttering shut, her blush spreading to her neck.

He knelt before her, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her black skirt higher until it bunched at her hips. His lips brushed her inner thigh, teasing, before finding her center. “Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he growled, his tongue swirling over her pussy, slow and deliberate, savoring her slick sweetness. Her juices coated his tongue, warm and sweet like honey dripping from a comb, and he groaned, greedy for more. Aliza’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, her thighs trembling as she leaned into him. More… please, deeper, she thought, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of pleasure, her cheeks flushed vibrant red.

His tongue danced, slow then faster, matching her ragged breaths, drinking in every drop as her pussy pulsed against him. “You’re melting for me, aren’t you?” he rasped, his voice thick with dominance, his hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Her body was a canvas of desire, painted with every flick of his tongue, her shyness melting into sweet submission. Her hands shook as she reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with fumbling fingers, revealing his chiseled chest. I need you inside me… so deep, she thought, her palms gliding over his warm, firm skin, her lips brushing his nipple, kissing softly, then sucking gently, drawing a low moan from him.

"Fuck, baby, you’re gonna hear me moan for you,” Dax growled, his hands squeezing her ass, his touch possessive. Her cheeks burned, her body softening against him, her fingers trembling as they traced his collarbone. He’s unraveling me, she thought, her heart racing.

"Dax,” he rasped, his voice raw as he stood, his cock hard and straining against his jeans. He flipped her onto the plush rug, her skirt pushed up, her red top clinging to her sweat-dampened skin. Her eyes screamed fuck me as she parted her thighs, her pussy dripping with need, the scent of her arousal mingling with the faint musk of his cologne in the air. He shed his jeans, his cock springing free, huge and thick, making her eyes widen with a mix of awe and nervous anticipation. “I can’t hold back with you like this,” he growled, his tone dark with hunger, as he positioned himself between her thighs, his gaze piercing her soul, pinning her with an intensity that made her heart stutter.

He thrust in, strong and deep, but his size stretched her, a sharp sting making her gasp, her body tensing. Oh, it hurts… too big, she thought, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her eyes glistening with discomfort. Dax froze, his expression softening, concern flickering in his dark eyes. “Hey, you okay, darlin’?” he murmured, his voice gentle, a stark contrast to his earlier dominance. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his thumb grazing her cheek. “We can stop if you need.”

Aliza’s blush deepened, her eyes sparkling with trust as she shook her head, her hands softening on his shoulders. “No… don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice shy but firm, her body relaxing under his touch. “Just… go slow at first.” Her hips tilted slightly, inviting him to continue, her submission sweet and trusting.

He nodded, his movements careful as he eased into her, slow and deliberate, letting her adjust to his size. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice a mix of reverence and hunger. Her pussy clenched around him, her juices easing the way, and soon the sting faded, replaced by a building heat. She moaned softly, her hands sliding to his back, her nails grazing his skin. “Ohhh, Dax… it feels so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling with shy adoration, her eyes locked on his, sparkling with desire.

Encouraged, he thrust deeper, stronger, each push rocking her core, her pussy gripping him like a vise. “Your juices are so fucking sweet,” he groaned, his hands gripping her ass, squeezing hard as he slammed harder, relentless, each stroke stealing her breath. Aliza’s body arched, her legs locking around his hips, her nails digging deeper, leaving faint red marks—unintentional hickies born of passion. “More… harder, please,” she moaned, her voice naughty yet sweet, her lips brushing his ear, her breath hot and teasing. God, he’s incredible, she thought, her cheeks flushed, her body surrendering completely.

“Fuck, you’re driving me wild,” Dax growled, his thrusts punishing, each one a claim, his dominance wrapping around her like a dark velvet rope. Her moans grew louder, spilling into his ear, a symphony of pleasure as she clung to him, her lips grazing his neck, leaving another soft hickey. “You’re mine,” he rasped, his voice a command, his cock hitting every sensitive spot, her pussy dripping, soaking the rug beneath them.

"Ohhh, Dax, you feel so good,” she whimpered, her voice a sweet surrender, her hands pulling him closer, her eyes fluttering shut. Harder… please, she thought, her body meeting his thrusts, her submission a dance of trust and desire. His grip on her ass tightened, bruising, as he pounded into her, his rhythm relentless, pushing her toward the edge.

"Fuck, Aliza, you’re gonna squirt for me,” he rasped, his voice dark with promise. Her pussy clenched, her juices flooding as she squirted, a raw, shuddering release that soaked him, her body convulsing in his arms. “Yes, baby, just like that,” he groaned, cumming deep inside her, filling her with a primal claim, their groans mingling in a crescendo of bliss. Her heart pounded, her boobs pressed against his chest, her face buried in his neck, kissing softly, her cheeks flushed with ecstasy and shyness, faint hickies marking his skin.

Dax held her close, his breath ragged, his voice softening but still laced with that commanding edge. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, Aliza,” he murmured, stroking her hair, his fingers tracing her spine. Her clothes were scattered—red top and black skirt in a heap, her body fully nude, vulnerable, and sated. “Still too shy for that kiss?” he teased, his soft, pink lips curving into a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Aliza’s smile bloomed, her fingers fidgeting with her hair, her eyes sparkling but darting away. God, he’s relentless, she thought, her blush deepening. But this time, she leaned forward, her shyness giving way to courage, and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was passionate, loving, a slow dance of tongues and heat, her hands cupping his face, his arms tightening around her. It was a promise, a melody of their connection, echoing Arijit Singh’s soulful strains.

They lay tangled on the rug, the world forgotten. Aliza’s fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, her shyness returning as the heat faded into a warm glow. “You’re… incredible,” she whispered, her voice soft, praising him with a shy smile. What now? she wondered, her heart racing, her body marked by his touch, faint hickies on his neck a secret she hadn’t meant to leave. Dax’s arm tightened around her, his smirk softening into something tender. “Stay, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “Let’s see where this fire takes us.”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with shy hope, her fingers brushing his jaw. Maybe just one more song, she thought, their connection echoing like a Bollywood ballad, promising more nights of dark, dominant passion and her sweet, trembling surrender
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