Kiara Carrera officially hated Halloween.
There was an annual Halloween carnival being hosted by the country club, which meant that the place was not only packed, but also tacky and decorated in orange and black adornments that would surely not be recycled by the end of the night. There was something off-putting by the sight of the pumpkin and bat-shaped garlands that led inside of the building, not to mention the various lights dimly lighting her path.
It had been her parent's idea, of course, certainly not her own. But she had been coerced into attendance after yet another boarding school threat—her mother had murmured something about if she had immersed herself into the Kook culture and had gotten to know the right people, that maybe she would transcend from the Pogue culture she seemed infatuated with.
It was all bullshit, not that her mother knew that, but Kiara was more than aware. She had even let the woman force her into the most predictable costume imaginable; it was a black velvet dress with white lace trim around the neck area and had the same material on the sleeves. It had even come with a stupid hat, one that's pointy and stereotypical, something that real witches would never adorn, not that she was persuaded enough to wear it.
Yet here she was wandering inside of the intricately decorated building with her parents lingering in front of her. She had thankfully convinced her mother that bringing along the small broomstick was too much, to which her mother had acquiesced, so she doesn't look as childish as she could.
She had told the boys to make an appearance at the party, preferably to crash it so she can go home, get changed, and spend the night over at the Chateau but since the garment had no pockets and she never carried a purse, she had no real means of contacting the boys or asking if the three were on their way at all.
Kiara could only hope.
When she makes her way to the back of the building, she has to take a moment to take it all in; there was a lot going on, whether it was different themed stalls set up, the different mazes lurking about in the dimmer lit parts of the propriety or more importantly, the table set up with a massive crimson-colored punch bowl and other adornments scattered about.
Her first bet is to hit the table and have a drink, something she certainly needed to survive the night. As she makes to step forward, arms are going around her chest and teeth are playfully poised at her neck: "did I scare you?" Sarah teases lightheartedly, her crimson lipstick leaving a bright, red stain on her skin.
Kiara takes a moment to recover and purses her lips, turning in the latter's arms to stare at her pointedly. "You don't look scary, you just look like something out of Jon B's wet dreams."
And she did.
Sarah Cameron was wearing a burgundy off the shoulder dress with black trim and an equally as dark corset that cinches her waist almost unbearably tight. Her lips are painted black and there are droplets of scarlet blood dripping down her chin and a pair of ivory fangs when her mouth opens to smirk broadly at the comment.
She regards her with mischief at the mere thought, linking her arms with the brunette as the two stroll to the refreshment table. "That's what I was going for," chirps the girl as she nears the table and plucks up a solo cup filled to the brim with punch: "Is Jon B still coming?"
Kiara hums at her tone and snatches up her own drink, suddenly wishing that it wasn't a Kook function and that someone had spiked the punch. When she brings the rim to her mouth, however, she finds it's to no avail and releases a sigh. "Jon B, Pope and JJ should be here when the party starts to wind down. You know they would never miss an opportunity to crash."
Sarah seems pleased by the information and tows her in the direction of the mirror maze. "I can't wait to see the look on everyone's face when they show up—it'll be like Midsummer all over again." There was a devious smile playing on her lips as she looks the entrance up and down.
When the latter shifts on her pointed heel to face her, however, she instantly raises her hands in defense and takes a step back. "Absolutely not."
"Oh, c'mon, Kie, get in the Halloween spirit—"
"—The spirit of Halloween is actually Pagan, mind you—"
"—Okay, we'll ignore that for now, but pretty please?—"
Kiara heaves a sigh and reluctantly downs the rest of her punch. She thrusts it to the latter's chest and takes a step toward the entrance; it was surrounded by cartoonish fingers pointing to the opening along with creepy clown laughter that certainly leaves her shivering involuntary, to which Sarah notices and cackles unabashed at.
Her brows furrow at the sight of the latter's unwavering form and then the realization dawns; she wants her to go alone, probably to get lost, so she can shamelessly tease her for it into the unforeseen future. She crosses her arms over her chest and raises her brows, lips pursing into a thin line, but Sarah looks innocent enough as her lips poke out into a pout and her eyes widen to the size of saucers.
"You're not coming?"
Sarah tilts on her heels as she regards her: "You see, I would, but these things really freak me out, not to mention the motion sickness, and I want to live it vicariously through you." The smile on her face is hopeful, her head nodding her encouragement: "I promise if you yell, I'll charge right in and find you, just please do this, for me?"
"As contradictory as that statement is," Kiara allows her voice to trail off and Sarah leans forward in anticipation, lips still poking in a pout: "I'll do it, but you owe me."
Almost immediately, Sarah is perking up once more and her frown fades into a grin. She ushers the girl inside and gives her a playful wink. "Don't get lost and remember, I'm only one call away."
Kiara isn't too fond of the devious expression that the latter wears, but she promptly rolls her eyes and takes a chance step forward. Her hands slide down the opening of the entrance and she takes a fleeting glance over her shoulder at the grinning girl, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she decisively steps inside of the maze.
There was something disorienting about the brightness of the LED lights surrounding her reflection when she strolls in. Too bright, too flashy and too much, she thinks, as she takes a minute to study herself in the mirror; she absolutely hated this costume with a burning passion but still, she had to admit that she didn't look bad in it, per se, though she wishes she had had more autonomy about what she could have worn.
"You got this, Kie!"
Sarah's voice was loud and clear from the exterior of the maze and she has to stifle a laugh. She definitely didn't "have this," but she wouldn't let her know that. Her eyes follow the glowing zigzags on the floor and elicits a hiss when she rams into one of the mirrors; she releases a huff as she rights herself and finds a curve in the path.
It doesn't take long for the music to feel like a mockery as she finds herself perplexed. All she can see is her reflection in the mirrors with no clear direction of where to go—she takes another experimental step forward and finds that there was nothing blocking her way, so she continues on the route with her hands out precariously before her, sighing when she hits yet another glowing mirror poised in her way.
"This is so stupid," murmurs the brunette as she attempts to meander through the maze; she felt practically blind as she finds herself surrounded by mirrors with her at the center. When she reaches out, she touches the mirror in front of her, then reaches to the side and finds that she was seemingly in the middle of a few closely sitting mirrors.
Her eyes are mid-roll when she notices movement in the reflection of the mirror. One of the lights flickers overhead and she snorts humorlessly. Of course the lights would decide to waver when she had entered, it couldn't have blown afterwards. This was just her luck. She gazes about once more and feels tempted to call out for Sarah, but is silenced by the sight of a figure approaching in one of the mirrors.
She takes an experimental step forward and finds that there was no mirror there and exhales in relief; she continues on the short path until the figure forbids her to. She nearly rams into the latter on her quest for an escape and is poised to scream, but a hand is quick to shield her mouth: dark blue eyes glint darkly beneath the flickering lights and her own are widening at the sight of the perp.
"Who'd have thought you'd be a screamer."
Rafe is an ominous force beneath the wavering lights as he backs her against one of the mirrors and crowds her. Kiara is swatting at the hand still covering her mouth and shoving him forcibly forward until he slams back against the opposing mirror. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She hisses, glancing about for an escape.
Rafe appears nonplussed by her tone and instead leans casually back against the mirror. "Here I was thinking tonight would be a loss," hums the brunet as he quirks a brow at her: "at least until you stumbled into my trap."
"Very funny." Kiara murmurs, squinting down at the glowing zigzags on the floor once more: "I don't have time for your juvenile games, Rafe, so fuck off."
"Says the one lost in the juvenile mirror maze," quips the brunet as he trails behind her; she can feel the warmth of him and stops in her tracks, eyes rolling and staring at the ceiling. His hands are going to her waist when she halts, his lips finding her ear: "For such a know-it-all, you sure are going the wrong way."
She meets his dark gaze in one of the mirrors and purses her lips sternly. Her arms are deftly crossing over her chest as she scowls at him. "Oh yeah? How would you know?"
Rafe nuzzles his nose against the soft hair covering her collar bone. She retracts from him and swats once more as if he were a gnat: "Dad made me hold Sarah's hand through it every year since she was four."
Kiara inhales sharply at the revelation and is withdrawing from his warmth completely. She places her hands on either side of her hips and scowls up at him; he was gazing down at her with a peculiar expression on his face, but she ignores it in favor of replaying what he said in her mind once more.
So, Sarah had known the maze through and through, yet she had made her go through it alone? "But she—" Her thoughts aren't completed and instead she clamps her mouth down: "that little—"
The brunet smirks broadly now as he takes a bold step forward; it makes her take one, then another and a third until she finds her front pressed taut against the mirror. "I'll make you scream," offers the brunet flippantly as he slides a hand beneath the hem of her dress: "all you have to do is open up for me."
Kiara isn't certain if it was the disorientation or the sheer anger that allows the action to happen, but either way, she stays stock-still as he fiddles with the material of her panties. She shivers at the action and keens as his fingers circle her clit; whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had always harbored a bit of a crush on the brunet and even in adolescence, she had acknowledged how unfairly attractive he was.
There was no denying those dark blue eyes that stare back at her in the reflection—not when he was so goddamn irresistible. She presses her cheek flush against the mirror and practically melts when his fingers brush aside her panties in favor of teasing her outer lips. "Someone could walk in—"
Of course, the more rational side of her has to chime in, it was only to be expected. Rafe utters a noncommittal noise, however, ignoring her rationality in favor of nipping at the exposed skin of her neck. His breath is hot against her neck as he works at a bruise there. She hears him utter a dark chuckle when she releases a breathy sigh and cants her neck to give him better access.
"Rafe, I swear if someone's kid walks in and you scar them for life—"
His teeth nip harshly at her neck, then, and his mouth instead occupies itself with claiming her. She shifts against his body and allows him to devour her as if he were ravenous and starved; he tastes faintly of alcohol and she can smell hints of weed on his breath as his tongue flicks out to tease her, his ivory teeth bearing down on her bottom lip.
"You're holding out on me," Kiara murmurs in reference to the alcohol and weed; she absently wishes she was heavily intoxicated to take away some of the guilt that consumes her from allowing this to happen, but then thinks that she would like to remember in the morning, so she allows it.
Rafe is humming pleasantly into the kiss once more, his fingers finally plunging into the wet heat of her cunt. And yeah, she was a little embarrassed—usually foreplay, especially as light as this, didn't leave her soaking but here she was. Her legs are spreading further apart and she finds herself pressing back against his cock; it was thick and hard against her ass and she briefly ponders what it would be like filling her completely and taking her.
Almost as if he had been reading her thoughts, he responds gruffly: "you have to work for it."
Kiara whimpers at that and instead focuses on the finesse of his fingers as he strokes her. He wasn't clumsy like some of the boys she had hooked up with before, he was deft and confident in his movements, knew exactly which buttons to press to earn the mewls that echo from her mouth.
His thumb is rubbing roughly at her clit while his middle and forefinger are stretching her open with scissoring motions; not that she needed it, she was more than certain she could take him unprepared, but it didn't hurt to have extra measures. She presses her forehead against the streaked mirror glass and breathes uneven through her mouth, her eyes squinting through the darkness to capture the lascivious sight of his fingers fucking her thoroughly.
"How did you know I would be here?"
Her voice sounds so foreign to her in the way that it was laced with pleasure—she almost sounds delirious, her words trailing and lingering in the air between the two. Rafe takes a considerate moment of silence as he places his chin upon her shoulder, his eyes flickering between the sight of her hazy eyes, to his dexterous fingers and back.
There it was again, the bright flash of his smile. "Do you know how hard it is to get you alone, Kiara?" queries the brunet, his other hand melded between their bodies to work at the fastens of his dark shorts, the sound of the zipper coming undone leaving her lashes fluttering as she stares back: "I saw an opening and I took it."
Kiara can't argue with that logic. She accepts it with a small nod of her head, her hands splaying flat against the glass and streaking it with her perspiration. She seeks purchase, her thighs trembling as she rolls her hips forward, attempting to match his pace as she seeks the relief of friction. She wanted more, so much more than he was offering. She wanted to feel full, to feel completely encumbered by Rafe Cameron, so much so that she was pleading for him to make her cum.
Rafe fiddles with her panties until the material is tight around her thighs, while his other hand is occupied with nudging the head of his cock to her cunt. Ivory teeth sink into his bottom lip at the tease of her juices covering the head, coating it in the sheen of her. "You're always playing hard to get," scolds the brunet as he presses the head into her heat, allowing his cock to burrow tantalizingly slow within her walls: "I've wanted this—wanted you—for so long."
Her hands are sliding down the sleek glass as she curls her fingers for purchase. The lace of her panties is tight around her thighs as she attempts to eagerly open her legs for him. He presses as close as he physically can into the contours of her body and doesn't allow her a moment to adjust, just wraps an arm around her middle and snaps his hips forward to bury within the snug heat of her.
Kiara is positively mesmerized by the sight of Rafe behind her: his arm is a steady force around her, practically keeping her upright on wobbling knees. His blue eyes are darkened in his fervor as he takes her from behind, his lids heavily hooded and his mouth parting to release breathy pants against her face.
She muses at how it fogs the glass before her at each labored breath he exhales. Kiara revels at the feel of him—his cock was thick and heavy inside of her, leaving her body wracking from each violent thrust that he offers. She concentrates on the searing sensation of his cock working in and out of her. Her eyes are unfocused as she attempts to maintain eye contact, but it was nearly impossible with how distracting and deafening the sound of skin slapping skin is against her eardrums.
Each sharp thrust he makes leaves her a writhing mess within his arms, her forehead digging against the glass as she steels herself. She presses her ass back against him as he surges forward to meet him halfway and it leaves him choking on a gasp as she repeats the action once more.
The two find a rhythm like that, Kiara meeting him halfway and arching her back while Rafe focuses on reaching the depths of her. His forehead is sweaty when he rests it against her shoulder, eyes clenched tightly shut, his nails digging into her hips now as he spurs forward with a sense of abandon.
He was fervent in his movements and it left Kiara a pitiful mess as she clenches around his cock, squeezing him tight within her walls. His thrusts are stuttering at the clamp around his cock and he finds himself grasping at her hips more urgently and pressing her into a more pliable position: "I want you to come for me," rasps the brunet as he bends her over completely, her hands grasping feebly at the glass once more: "I want you to come on my cock."
Kiara finds herself overwhelmed—it was his voice, the desperate look in his eye, the way his hips are painfully colliding with hers in sharp, short thrusts that leave her doing just that. Her knees are knocking inward as she blindly surges through the first waves of her orgasm; it left her a whining mess as she clenches unbearably around his cock, her body twitching weakly as she attempts to right herself.
But Rafe takes care of her, he does, he holds her there as he bucks forward with yearning; he was ardently approaching his peak, his thrusts not letting up as he fucks her. Her walls are a clenched force around his cock but it was just enough to have him releasing once he reaches the hilt of her, thick spurts of come shooting from his cock as he falls forward.
Kiara coaxes him through it with hushed whispers as she rights herself against the glass. Her hands are blindly reaching toward him, touching every ounce of perspired skin she can reach, a stupor overcoming her as she breathlessly laughs into the silence. There was something so oddly satisfying about the position she had found herself in and she can't contain the mirthful laughter that erupt from her chest.
Rafe, on the other hand, is recovering at a much slower pace. His chin is propped upon her shoulder once more as he blinks at her owlishly, quirking a brow at her reaction. "The fuck are you laughing at?" prompts the brunet as he nips at her once more.
"Nothing, I just—" Kiara stifles another laugh: "I really hate this fucking maze."
Rafe seems unconvinced but doesn't breathe another word. Instead he presses forward to press a tender kiss to her mouth, but this time he takes it slow, he takes his leisure. It was slow but not lacking in ardor as he reels another hum from her, swallowing down every sound and sigh she makes into his mouth.
He stays like that for a while, his mouth on hers.
It isn't until the two hear an obnoxious shriek coming from outside of the maze that the two ultimately break apart. The sound of Sarah vehemently demanding Kiara to tell her where she is breaks the serenity of the moment and for once, Kiara wishes the girl would shut up and allow this moment to linger, even if for a second longer.
"Fucking bitch ruins everything," murmurs Rafe as he reluctantly withdraws with a hiss. His cock is covered in a thin gloss from her juices, not that he cares, just knows it'll be an uncomfortable mess within his briefs.
Kiara is pursing her lips at him and playfully shoving him back against one of the mirrors. "Don't call Sarah a bitch, you asshole." She hisses with disapproval, though she quickly rights her panties and surges forward to press another bruising kiss to his mouth, her hand gingerly caressing his jaw.
Rafe holds here there a moment longer before he breaks the kiss to smirk smugly at her. "I think you put a spell on me," chastises the brunet with playful mirth, something so unlike him that Kiara actually blanches.
She eyes him, intrigued, as she rights her panties and smooths out the velvet of her dress. "Remind me to never hook up with you again if this is how you'll be after," her lips betray her words, however, as they twitch into an equally as smug grin.
Kiara makes to shift on her heel for the exit when Rafe is catching her just before she can get away. "About that—..." His voice trails off suggestively: "we'll be hooking up again, won't we?"
There was a sense of uncertainty lurking in his dark eyes and Kiara feels a peculiar warmth in her chest as she leans forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Yeah, yeah I would like that." She feels a wave of awkwardness wash over her, so she crosses her arms over her chest and nods toward one of the mirrors. "but only if you get me out of here, like, now."
Rafe straightens up and nods his head forward. "You owe me," he breathes as he slides past to show her the way out of the befuddling maze.
On the other side anxiously awaits a particular blond, one that is glancing from Rafe, to Kiara and back with an expectant grin playing on her lips. She doesn't say a word, just peruses Kiara and her disheveled state with a morbid sense of amusement. Rafe, however, is rolling his eyes and shouldering past her, though he does spare a fleeting glance at Kiara over his shoulder.
"You look like you got wrecked," lightheartedly teases the blonde as she thumbs at the remnants of her lipstick smeared along her throat: "I just hate that it had to be by my brother." She crinkles her nose in disdain and offers a horrified grimace, one that is quickly replaced with cackles as Kiara proceeds to chase her. "I did it for you, Kie, don't be mad!"
"I can't believe you set me up like that—"
"—It was for your own good, neither of you would make a move!—"
It went on like that for a few minutes until the two were eventually back inside of the main building, panting heavily after the brief sprint session. Kiara manages to look appreciative despite the peculiar circumstances and for that, Sarah was grateful. The blonde is about to make a cheeky retort when the Pogues saunter in as boldly as ever.
"Someone requested one party crashing and we're here to deliver."
Kiara thinks absentmindedly that she would thank Sarah at a late date, but now called for a fun party crashing event, one that would rival the disaster of Midsummer, for sure. As she saunters closely behind the boys and Sarah, she manages to capture Rafe's gaze, the brunet flicking his tongue along his bottom lip as she trails behind the others.
Her brown eyes question what else his tongue could do, but doesn't dwell on the thought much longer as JJ invades the DJ booth in favor of turning on something the group could really move to. As the blond turns her abruptly into a spin, she thinks she catches Rafe's gaze again, but this time he was disapproving of her actions.
But Kiara can't linger on the look when JJ is dipping her to the song.
Kiara Carrera might actually like Halloween, but only if it involved Rafe Cameron dicking her down in a children's mirror maze. She makes a mental note to find him as the party comes to a close and demand that he put that sinister tongue to better use. But for now, she allows the Pogues to dance around the aggravated crowd that surrounds them, deciding that she would have her fun and then some.