Home for the Holidays (A Holinight Novella)

by Lee Jacquot

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

Adelina was always supposed to be mine, and now she will be.

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

“Show me, Adelina. Show me how badly you’ve wanted your stepbrother to finger fuck you while you slept.”

“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.”

“I am yours. Wholly and truly. Not a day has passed since I laid eyes on you where I wasn’t.”