Night Time Story For Adults Novels & Stories

touch. At that time, the only remaining sensible part of me warned - Lucas didn't come across as someone who would follow a doctor's advice. This asshole was like a wild savage beast. He would do anything out of impulse, including taking my virginity or even worse, taking my life. I had to do something to distract him. Nothing distracts a horny male murderer more effectively than bedtime stories with supernatural creatures in them. The new wife in Arabian Nights did it. She told that asshole King a story every night lest he killed her the next morning.

Every pot and plate was neatly packed away, untouched by time. Peering outside, I was met with darkness, the night alive with the sound of insects. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I remembered the night it happened. I was five years old, living with my parents in my old pack before it was destroyed. My mother would tell me bedtime stories during quiet nights like this. Stories of brave wolves and beautiful mates, of love that could conquer anything. Stories I had once believed in.

It’s too complicated to think about right now. “In the morning then,” I whisper. “Yes. In the morning.” I close my eyes and drift to a sleep so deep not even the automatic blinds coming down wakes me up. Lucas is in bed next to me when I do wake up, and he’s in that deep, dead, vampire-style sleep. I conjure a small energy ball so I can see my way into the bathroom. It’s ten-thirty AM and I’m sure my friends are awake. I change into a black romper, use magic to braid my hair, and go downstairs to find them. Binx is sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for me.

Adults were strange. They asked questions they didn’t want answered. Then they lied when children asked questions back. I climbed into bed. The stuffed wolf sat beside me. I pulled the blanket over myself. Outside, the sky was getting darker. The moon appeared between the clouds. My eyes grew heavy. I fell asleep. * The forest was back. I was standing beneath the trees. This time, I wasn’t alone. The black wolf stood several feet away. He was huge. His eyes were fixed on me.

"What story do you want to share?" Eden cleared his throat dramatically, and the hall fell silent, eager to hear his words. "Once upon a time, there was a brave wolf who fought against the darkness. He was small but fierce, and he had two powerful parents who taught him how to be strong!" Laughter erupted around the table as he spun his tale, embellishing it with wild gestures and exaggerated expressions. I couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of love and laughter envelop me.

I whispered with a loving smile, "which story would you like tonight?" Mathew's face lit up with excitement, his tiny hands reaching for his favorite book. "The one about the brave little wolf, Mumma!" I chuckled as I opened the book, a captivating story about a young wolf's grand adventure. Mathew listened with rapt attention, his eager eyes fixed on the pages as I spun the tale of bravery and exploration. By the time I reached the part where the little wolf found solace under the silvery glow of the moon, my son was already fast asleep.

And on moonlit nights, when the wind carried whispers through the trees, the children would huddle close to their parents, grateful for the lessons learned from the chilling tale. And so, dear children, remember the story of 'The Whispering Shadows' when the moon is high and the wind carries secrets on its breath. For even the naughtiest of children may find themselves facing the eerie dance of shadows in the depths of the forest, a fate they can only escape by heeding the warnings of those who came before.

I withdrew myself and walked back to the boys. "You pumpkins need to get a nap, don't you think?" I suggested, looking at the clock. They groaned but went off to their room after asking for an extra story. Liam and I tucked them in. In the dim room, once they were asleep, I pushed Liam against the wall and kissed him, hard. "Are you sure you can handle this, watching me getting pleased?" I whispered. "As long as I get to have you after. In my room," he whispered back, his voice rough.

Dada asked furiously. "Excuse you? What right do you think you have to question me that way?" she refuted him and he grabbed her closer to him. Pissed, she pushed him away from her. "I had a one-night stand the night before. It was magical and up till now, I still can't let go of the moment I shared with this stranger. I have no idea who he is. Now I feel very lonely. I'm telling you because you are my friend. The only make friendship I have and value but please respect me next time." she said to him and tried to make her way out of his house but then he shut the door as he looked at her like someone who was brokenhearted.

“Cancel your lunch. We’re eating together.” Always commands. Never questions. At night, the boys would ask: “Mama, why are you sad?” “I’m not sad,” I’d say. “Just tired.” “You cry at night,” Luca whispered once. “I hear you.” I smiled like I wasn’t breaking. “Sometimes adults get overwhelmed.” Another lie. Every night, I stared at the ceiling, waiting for his door to open. He hadn’t come yet. But he would. I knew it. My wolf clawed inside me, begging to fight, to run. But I couldn’t risk it. Cameras. The boys.