Chapter 7 Overwhelmed (1)
There had been a criminal on the run. The Hayhill community had been warned to steer from dark corners and report any notorious criminal found.
Kiara and Mia had joked over it while staring at the supposed television. The two had been childhood friends and they knew how rumours like this had disrupted the activities of the day in the time past.
Most of the neighboring communities hadn't taken these tales to mind, so why should Hayhill?
"You had better lock ya door behind ya since you live all alone in ya expensive pent-like house," Mia said jokily to Kiara as they both parted away.
Kiara laughed at that. "And I'll be glad to help your father shove his rifle to the face of the criminal once he is caught." Kiara waved her off while leaving the shopping mall.
Mia's father was a sergeant, so the town was secured, Kiara thought to herself.
Kiara was exhausted, down to the bones. She walked into her house and threw her bag to the coach while pulling herself out of her dress.
She didn't notice the silhouette who was lingering in the shadows watching her take a shower. He stepped over an object, and that alerted Kiara.
"Who's there?" She called out, wiping out the suds from her eyes but she got no reply.
She had an intuitive nudge that someone was watching her. She retrieved her towel immediately, tied it around her, and returned to her room. After searching her room incessantly, she gave up, mocking herself for having negative thoughts that someone was in the house with her.
It was after she was nestled deep into sleep that the figure crept out from the dark. He had eaten the leftover porridge in her kitchen and he simply couldn't stop himself from thinking about her naked body.
Long, rich dark hair that adorned her oval face.
Pure silk-like skin that seemed perfect.
Pert breasts that ached to be touched.
Long legs and a crotch that paralyzed him.
His tongue flickered across his lower lip. When had he had a woman? He couldn't remember the last time he had a woman. He had been in jail for the past five years, and he hadn't dreamt that he would be out of jail.
He should be about his way and leave her be. It was better she never knew he was in her home. He smirked watching her sleep. She was beautiful, and she lay bare beneath her duvets.
Just one last look at her, he told himself, and he would bolt from her house like he hadn't been there.
She stirred in her sleep. She had terrible sleeping postures, the duvets peeled down her body, revealing her perfect torso, and nestled just above her pelvic region. That private region had rich, dark, and wavy curls.
The urge to touch her was much stronger than the urge to leave. So, he reached out and caressed her arms while he pushed the strands of hair from her face. His hands dived lower, tracing feathering touches down her neck and around her breasts. He watched with esteemed fascination as her nipples hardened like hard rocks. His fingers played around her nipples causing her breath to hitch in her sleep.
He must have forgotten himself. Swayed by a swelling desire that consumed him, he found himself sucking on her breasts. A slow bulge beginning to form in his trousers started to grow.
How could she be in such a deep slumber and not feel someone was touching her? He asked himself, as he shrugged off his polo.
Next, he shoved a finger into her pussy. It was tight and she let out a moan at the intrusion of his finger. He paused, observing the way she sprawled out on her back giving him a rewarding view of her pussy. Spurned by the fluid that sluiced out with his finger, he dung three more fingers into her moist folds.
She squirmed, swerving her head to the other side of her. Don Julio scoffed, she indeed was a good sleepy head. When he was done with her, she wouldn't even realize that someone had laid with her. He began to unbuckle his belt, straining off the fact that he would be adding another crime to his name.
Just a taste of her, he told himself. Who would see such a beauty, and refuse himself a great moment?
He cradled his 9-inch staff, kicking off his heavy jean trousers before joining the sleeping beauty back on the bed. Daydreaming had never been enough for him even while in jail, this right here was served to him on a platter of pure gold. He brought up one of her feet to his face, studied it intently, and took one toe into his mouth. He had a pure fantasy for ladies' toes, especially ladies who had clean feet.
He sucked on each slowly before moving to the next foot. She squealed softly in her sleep, Don Julio knew in that instant that she wouldn't even pop her lids open once he entered heaven's gate. And just like he had presumed, he thrust into her, guiding each ride home.
She moaned. More of her juices clothed his fat meat. He just couldn't get enough of her, he pushed two of his fingers into her, sucked on them, and savored the taste of it. She tasted so good. It would be a waste if he didn't fuck her, he laughed to himself.
He thrusted in again, careful not to wake her up when a gasp escaped her. He began to increase his pace as he felt her pussy clamped around his dick. Was she cumming while she slept?
Oh, that was great. At least they would cum together, he leaned in and gave her neck a good lick while he rode on to glory. He continued, hammering into her, shoving all of his staff into her. Waves like electricity stung him and he moaned, soiling her with the last of his seeds.
Kiara rolled, sighed in her sleep, and popped her eyes open when the smell of burnt rice wafted towards her. She didn't recall putting anything on fire, she shoved the duvets from her body. Her hands glided across her stomach, she paused wondering what slimy substance was on her body.
Her hands dug into her pussy and she discovered to her horror that it was more moist than usual. She could barely remember what had occurred the previous night. Reminded of the burning food, she jumped out of her bed, rushed down to the kitchen, and turned off the gas. She opened the pot and shuddered.
How had she forgotten that she was cooking and had forgotten herself in a dream that felt familiar? One look at herself again, she rolled her eyes. What had happened last night? How could she not recall a thing last night? She wasn't drunk last night, neither had she been drugged. She knew she was a terrible sleeper and she must have had a wildest encounter the previous night. Last night was probably a dream, she concluded. No way the envisioned sex could have been real.
She turned herself to the entrance, racking her head for the umpteenth time how she had almost set the house on fire. The bathroom door creaked, Kiara heard footsteps walking towards the kitchen, and then her eyes fell across him.
Her mouth dropped. He was freshly shaved, bathed, and had her white towel tied around his waist. He was 6ft tall, had green eyes, and had dirty blonde hair.
He smirked. "You're awake?"
"Who the hell are you?" Kiara asked, her hands flew to cover her naked body.
"There's no need to be scared. I am Don Julio." He said. "I am not a criminal they claimed I am. I was framed for a murder that I never committed."
Her stomach tightened. He was darn cute and had the most sexy eyes she'd ever seen. Why does he look strangely familiar? Suddenly it hit her like magic.
Don Julio.
The most wanted criminal in all of Hayhill.
What was she going to do?
All thoughts felt drained out from her.
She stepped backward slowly until her buttocks hit the counter where the gas cooker was placed. Her eyes skated slowly leaving Don's eyes to the place the kitchen knife was. He was dangerous, so she had to do something.
Don Julio must have traced the direction of her eyes. Immediately she moved towards the knife, he raced after her, grabbing her arm as he reached for it. Her back bent towards the hot pot, he shoved her aside and pushed her to the floor, falling on top of her.
Had he just saved her from having her skin scaled? She could barely believe what had just happened.
They stared into each other's eyes. While his eyes searched hers, her heart was hammering for fear of what he would do to her.
"You don't have to be scared of me." He repeated softly.
Who was he to tell her how to feel? She asked herself. Yet, his body felt strangely familiar as she felt his bulge rising behind the towel.
A fist abruptly landed on the door, alerting both of them to face the door.