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Of course, I was right, her pussy already shining with a light sheen of moisture from her desire. Dusky, pink nipples slightly darker than my sister’s stand out against her skin in tight little peaks, her breasts framed in the red garland that suddenly seems to shimmer in the light.
I want to angle myself at the entrance of her pussy and slam into her without warning, making her scream into the quiet room around us.
I want to devour her cunt with my lips and tongue and teeth as she cries out her release, coating my tongue as I greedily drink in her arousal.
I want to leave bite marks on her breasts. Want to flog her, and cane her, and spank her until her ass resembles an oil spill—colors of reds and pinks and blues and purples spreading out under my palm as I massage her tender skin after being thoroughly worked over.
I want, I want, Iwant.
Rein it in, Saint. This isn’t about you; it’s about them.
Being the greedy fucker that I am, I can’t control myself completely. Reaching down, I slide the pad of my thumb over her clit, loving the groan that leaves the back of her throat as I simply apply pressure to the most sensitive place on her body.
It should feel wrong—to be touching Holly like this after being with Noel just a few short hours ago. But if anything, it just makes me more excited to retrieve my sister from where she has been downstairs, blissfully unaware of what’s unfolding above her.
Sliding my finger up and down Holly’s pussy one single time, I coat my fingers in her juices and bring them up to taste, cursing at the sweet flavor of perfection on my tongue. “You feeling good? Nothing too tight? And you don’t feel like anything is going to slip off anywhere?”
“All green, Saint. Go get our girl.”
I throw a devious smile of my own over my shoulder, not entirely hating the way the phraseour girlsounds coming from Holly, and wondering if it would have the same allure to her if I was the one saying the words.
The gentle soundof Noel singing gives me pause as I reach the bottom of the main staircase.
Across the space, she’s staring at the Christmas tree—a sad, longing look on her beautiful face as she sings Judy Garland’s classicHave Yourself A Merry Little Christmasto no one in particular.As I watch from the last step, I’m taken back to the Christmas after we first became a family—her begging her mother with tears in her eyes to take her caroling like she had seen in many old Christmas movies while my father sat nearby, barking orders into his cellphone though it was nearly eight in the evening.
A cacophony of memories assault my senses. All the fancy dinners we were left out of, the times Noel cried as our parents left us once again, unable to be bothered by their duty as parents. I’m reminded of the times I felt equally as alone and now, as I watch the beautiful angel in front of me as she reaches out to touch an ornament, I feel like I have someone I can count on other than myself for the first time in my life.
Like, I could ask her for the world and she would give it to me. And not because she’s a Belle and has more money than any one person could ever spend in a lifetime but because she truly would feel I was worthy of anything she had to offer.
I’ve been such a fucking asshole to her for years on end. Yet, she still finds herself drawn to me. Still finds herself craving me in the way I’ve always secretly craved her.
And I shouldn’t even be considering it, but now, as I stand here watching her sing, unaware that she has an audience, I can’t help but think of any possible scenario where I would be able to keep her—and not just Noel, but Holly, too—for more than tonight.
My feet take me to her without input from my brain, and I find myself wrapping my arms tightly around Noel from behind, pulling her closely to my chest. For the briefest of moments, she stiffens before she melts into me, allowing me to hold her tight.
We stare at the lights for a moment, neither of us speaking, yet so much is happening in the space between us.
Finally, I break the silence, knowing I left Holly just up the stairs and deliciously on display. “Come on, beautiful girl. I have something extra special for you upstairs.”
Noel allows me to lead her up the steps, her hand in mine the entire way. It feels small enveloped in mine, her fingers so slim and smooth. So…perfect.
Chiding myself for even thinking it, I give her hand a squeeze as we come to stand in front of the door that is slightly ajar—just feet away from us. It blocks Noel’s view of what’s waiting for her on the other side, but from the way she now bounces on the balls of her feet, I can tell she’s excited for what’s to come—ever the young girl excited to tear open a present before Christmas day.
Hell, I can feel it vibrating from every cell of her body.
The excitement of the unknown seeps into my bones too, transferring through Noel and into my frame through the place where our hands remained linked. My face spreads into a wide smile, feeling as foreign against my skin as the excitement feels building in my body.
When I push open the door the rest of the way, I wait, allowing Noel to see the way Holly is on display for us for the first time.
The gasp that comes from my stepsister is worth every agonizing second it took to get us to this sick and twisted place where we stand now. We’re both still at least partially clothed, but there’s a bare cunt mere feet from where we stand, ready to be tortured and devoured and eaten like a Goddamned Christmas feast.
I knew it was obscene as I tied the garland around Holly’s body again and again. Knew it was lascivious to have her spread wide, on display like a personal buffet. I knew it was primal to want to hold her down so she couldn’t move her pretty, little body until I wanted her to.
And it seems like my darling little sister likes it every bit as much as I do.
Noel’s breath has already picked up, coming in slow, deep waves that she works to keep measured. Her mossy green eyes flare when she turns to me, now nearly overcome by the darkness of pupils that have dilated to nearly fully eclipse the irises. “Can I…am I not allowed to touch her?”
It pleases me that she asks for permission so easily—as if it is a treat to follow her Daddy’s rules.
