Home for the Holidays (A Holinight Novella)

by Lee Jacquot

She was mine even before I even knew her last name, and I happily broke a few noses to make it known.

I wanted her to feel how long I’d waited for her. How bad I fucking wanted her.

We’ve been living the forbidden, miscommunication trope of life. Goddamn it.

“Shh. No need to wake up, sweetheart. I’m just going to play with this wet cunt of yours. Get some rest.”

“Unless you want your mother to know her daughter’s about to get tongue-fucked, I suggest you remain quiet. You’ll have plenty of other opportunities to scream. I promise.”

“I want to watch you come apart for me, Adelina. I need to see that pretty face of yours when you realize it’ll only ever be me that makes you feel this way.”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t need to explore what I already know?”

“Because for me, sweetheart, it’s always been you. And when I didn’t think I’d have you, I needed the reminder. I wanted to look out this window and remember all the things you made me feel.”