Bedtime Stories For Kids Novels & Stories

I was drained and desired a decent night's sleep. “Yeah. She said we needed to be good kids, and not disturb you any further, which was why we were obedient. Did we do well, mum?” River asked, grinning. “We were the best, right?” “Yeah. My best.” I patted his head, sitting next to him. “So, which bedtime story do you want? The princess and the pea? Or your favourite Toy Story?” They stayed silent for a long time, sharing glances before River murmured, “Just go to bed, Mum. You don't have to read any stories for us. We will sleep just fine without it.”

I even let the kids call Xander father, so they won't ask why kids in my bedtime stories had fathers, but they didn't. Minutes later, I was in the bathtub, preparing the kids for bed, by scrubbing them gently. “Mom, it's snowing. Tell us a story.” Azella piped up, as she played with the bubbles. “A story about people building snowmen that eventually wake up, and chase them.” Azel suggested, and I laughed. “Why would you want to hear such? Let's hear stories about people sharing Christmas gifts. I wonder what father will bring for us this time.” She said, and let out an excited high-pitched giggle.

"I didn't cry oceans." "H-y-p-e-r-b-o-l-e, hyperbole." Ethan fumed, while Sydney smiled at them. "So, Kelly-" Ethan got up. "Mum, I'm going to bed." "We'll all go together, sit." Emily narrated the rest of the story, Sydney laughed when Ethan kept complaining she exaggerated it. After dinner, Sydney took them to their room. She read Emily's favorite bedtime story, Goldy Locks and the Three Bears. Sydney was about to leave the room when Emily whined. "Mommy I'm cold." Her eyes were closed, and a thumb was in her mouth.

At this point, I could not stand being married to him anymore. Ava got up and cupped my hand in her tiny palms. “Mommy, I’ll take you to bed to get some sleep. The teachers at kindergarten always tell me that you should get some sleep if you're tired!" I felt much better when I noted how loving Ava was. With that, we went to bed. I covered us with a blanket and laid side by side. I read bedtime stories to her—something I would never run out of to tell her. At some point in the night, the rhythm of her breathing became faint and steady.

The house was quiet; the nanny had already finished and left, leaving just me and the children. Later that evening, after dinner, I sat with the kids in their room. I picked up one of their storybooks. “Storytime!” Caleb clapped his hands, bouncing on the bed. “Alright, let’s see what we have tonight…” I opened the book. The pages showed colorful drawings of a family of three camping outside under the stars. I cleared my throat and began to read:

Story Note: “Room for One More” is a standalone short from my erotic collectiona mix of intense, sensual, and sometimes forbidden stories that explore the raw edges of desire. Each story introduces new characters, new fantasies, and unapologetically explicit encounters. This particular tale features a taboo dynamic between step-siblings, told with heat, dominance, and no holding back. Reader discretion is advised. *************************************************

He shifted, turned toward her and crawled forward, resting his head there just like he used to when he was smaller. She stroked his hair. They stayed like that for a long while. She almost thought he’d fallen asleep, until he asked, “Mommy… are you mad at me?” She paused. And then, she smiled. “No,” she whispered. “Of course not.” “Here, let me read your bedtime story.” Then she picked up the storybook from the nightstand. The same one he always chose. Something about a flying bear and a moon-shaped rocket. She opened it and began reading, her voice slow and soothing.

“Here, Daddy.” I laid down next to them, and when I started to weave a story about the animals on the ceiling, Naomi linked our fingers together, while Becky laid her head on my arm. Just like that, all the stress from the day was gone, and I knew that no matter what, I was never going to miss another bedtime story.

My pussy was still aching, waiting to be filled, but Roderick took so long to return. When he finally walked back into the house, I went to him again, placing my hands on his shoulders with a smirk on my face but he gently pulled away from me and sighed. My face fell, my heart thumping against my chest. “What's wrong?” “Lora, I don't want to do this. I promised your father on his deathbed that I would take care of you, this is wrong.” My eyes widened. “This counts as taking care of me.” He chuckled. “I'm exhausted, Lora. See you in the morning.” He kissed my forehead like he did every night and made his way up the staircase.

"Serena, Mr. Prescott said you misunderstood." She bit her lip and held the book out to me. "This is the book he reads to me every day. If you're not comfortable with it, you can listen in too." I looked at her and didn't take it. Her voice dropped lower. "Mr. Prescott is really tired, you know. Could you stop pressuring him?" I smiled. "Ms. Hayes, do you know what I'm best at?" "I'm best at making people cough up everything they've swallowed, with interest."