Booktok Christmas Novels & Stories

Three wolves in the corner choked at the same time. Marek stepped closer. “Aveline. Listen. Please. This is a mortal holiday craft. Not a High Realm frost ritual. Do not enchant anything else.” I blinked at him slowly. “Define enchant.” “No magic.” “Define no.” Lucian groaned. “We are doomed.” The giant Christmas tree stood in a corner, still wrapped in twine. It reached almost to the ceiling. A towering dark green mountain of pine needles and potential. Wolves gathered around it, eager to decorate.

I always craved something more intense, something that would push me to my limits and beyond, leaving me broken and begging. That's what led me to this stupid idea on Christmas Eve. I was alone in my cramped apartment, the snow outside building up against the windows like a white prison wall. Bored out of my mind, I pulled out this ancient book I'd snagged from a shady thrift store downtown. It was all about old Alpine myths, and tucked away in the yellowed pages was a ritual for summoning Krampus… not the watered-down version from holiday movies, but the genuine article, the horned devil who dragged the wicked straight to hell for their sins.

For a Christmas present I am getting her a collection of books written by Lonnie Barback, Emma Holly, Cecilia Tan plus some Suzie Bright Audibles. Isabel did decide to surprise me with something new on the third Tuesday of October. We were in the shower, washing each other because that is fun, with fingers probing the usual fun spots. Using some nasty excuse she got me leaning forward, bent over, with her behind me. She was having fun with her tongue tickling my balls from behind, using her fingers lightly as she licked my hairless sack. Then, suddenly she was holding me tight while her tongue was giving me a light rimming. I admit that it felt good. I let it go on for 30 to 40 seconds of go

And what will happen when Damien finally realizes that Tatiana has feelings for him even outside the bedroom? $Chapter Chapter 40-Prologue to Enchanted Tatiana’s P.O.V I looked around my empty living room and sighed. It was going to be a long, lonely Christmas this year. I walked over to my coffee table and sat down on the carpeted floor. I leaned against a couch, facing the fireplace where I threw in a few tiny twigs and made a pitiful fire that hardly provided any heat or light. Thankfully, the fairy lights that I strung on the wall above the fireplace were lit, and it provided the only illumination in the darkened room while I sipped from a bottle of Ravenswood Old Vine. It didn’t matter

I said, climbing down from the table. Before I could move my feet, he spun me around and made me lie on the table, with my butt facing him. The impact sent the piles of books spiraling on the floor. "I'm not done with you,” he said, pulling my butt upward. "Why don't we continue in the —” He cut me off with a hard and deep thrust. I wasn't joking when I told Caleb how deep Damon's dick goes inside me. He hit every corner. I moaned and clawed at the table, squeezing every piece of paper as I tried to steady myself.

He wants to know that I cherish the small things just as much as he does. I grab my laptop and start looking for the best place to order a custom book with overnight shipping. I can already see the look on his face on Christmas Eve when he opens it—the way his eyes will soften and that lopsided smile will creep across his face. The panic is officially gone, replaced by a warm, fluttery excitement. I’m going to spend the whole night writing little notes in the margins, telling him all the things I’m sometimes too shy to say out loud. I’m finally ready for Christmas. Aiden

The aroma of roasted meat and baked tarts fills the air as we pull out the food and set it up. Christmas dinner is a noisy, joyful affair. Maz keeps teasing Caleb and me, calling us “a picture-perfect family,” while Big King grumbles about needing another helping of everything. Baby Caleb babbles happily in his high chair, and for a few precious hours, the weight of the past fades into the background.

Killian immediately shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, and she pulled it tight around herself, breathing in his scent. "I loved Christmas here," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was—they made it so special. So magical. Mrs Morales would start decorating the day after Thanksgiving. She had made us all hot chocolate and put on Christmas music–Mary's Boy Child by Bonney M precisely, and we'd spend the whole day turning the house into something out of a Hallmark movie. And Mr Morales, he'd read us the Christmas story every single night in December, counting down until the actual day. And Daryl would—" She couldn't finish. "I hated the smell of Christmas

In the rear, Ashton touched my back, and I could feel his pride as a warm sensation, though he didn’t say anything. Christmas Eve Snow blanketed all in serene white, as in a fairy tale. The house glowed with warm lights; ornaments encircled the railing, and stockings hung beside the fireplace. Children darted from one room to another, thrilled with the sweets, hollering about Santa. I stood at the window and observed the snow as I sipped hot cocoa from a mug. I could sense him near me. Ashton embraced my waist and inhaled in my ear. "Remember," he said softly, "our first Christmas together? You baked gingerbread, and I set some of them on fire because I could not help staring at you."

“Right here on the rug. Santa wants to unwrap his present properly.” I sank down onto the plush fur, the heat from the dying fire licking across my skin. He knelt between my thighs, his eyes hidden behind the hood of his coat, raking over every inch of me like he was memorizing. “Look at this body,” he murmured, almost reverent. “Tits flushed and marked, nipples hard as fucking diamonds, pussy swollen and dripping with two loads already.” “This is prettiest Christmas gift I’ve ever seen.” He leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the top of my breasts, then dragged his tongue in a slow, wet line down between my breasts, over my navel, stopping just above my clit.