Scented Doll Novels & Stories

so more running it will have to be. As I pad across the hallway and step up to the playroom door I try to come up with a plan. My gaze falls on the scented candles that are stored in the closet next to the bedroom. Of course I can't use them for a scene, but some extra light is always good, and the heady scent of vanilla and sandalwood can create a good atmosphere. Bella is being forward, and I feel I need to reward her for being so

She spritzed a little on her wrists and neck, closing her eyes briefly as the familiar fragrance wrapped around her. Next, she picked up one of the perfumes Dante had gifted her. The bottle was sleek and elegant, just like the scent inside—rich, sophisticated, and undeniably alluring. She smiled, thinking about the way Dante always noticed her scent, how he leaned in closer whenever she wore the perfumes he bought her. She sprayed a light mist on her collarbone and the back of her neck, letting the two scents blend together perfectly. It was a mix of sweetness and elegance, something soft yet undeniably captivating.

Samira stood in the sterile, brightly lit perfume production room, her senses assaulted by the pungent scents of various floral extracts and essential oils. The air was thick with the cloying sweetness of roses, the sharp tang of citrus, and the earthy undertones of sandalwood. Yet, to her dismay, she could barely discern the delicate nuances of the fragrances she was supposed to be working with.

My husband, Calvin Ziegler, had recently acquired an odd fetish. Three months ago, he brought home a silicone doll. It was a life-sized thing with chestnut-colored curls, full pink lips, and a face that could have belonged to a femme fatale. He told me the doll was a prize from a company team-building raffle. Supposedly, it was made for stress relief. "It's all the rage these days for those who are overwhelmed by stress," he said. "You hug it while sleeping for decompression."

‘I think Mate is here, but it’s like mate is masked by other animal scents. ‘No shit, Sherlock, we are in a room full of werewolves! And Hazel has drowned herself in the most goddess-awful floral perfume AGAIN.’ I push him back to the back of my mind just as the most delicious and intoxicating scent of autumn spices goes by me in one fleeting moment, and then it’s gone. I spy around the ballroom, but it’s too dark to see anyone move from their seats at the tables. My heart begins to pound as the scent wants to pull me in the direction of a set of double doors near the back of the ballroom.

I mean, I deal with bad and dangerous folks day to day, so how tough can it be to win over a dumb six-year-old? "Fine, play but I'm not going. Anything else? The zoo?" "The zoo smells," Damon blows out. "It has animals," I groan. "What do you want?" L'Oreal scrunched up her little nose. "We want all animals to smell like roses. Just like my teddy bears.". I even mention that she has flower-scented stuffed animals because she keeps spraying them with Ky's perfume when nobody is watching, but I decide to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to pop her bubble of delusional thinking.

I’m seeing faint pale pink traces infusing into the air from her slumbering frame. And screw me when it hits my nostrils. ‘Is this...her scent?’ I rise in provocation, chest heaving, and biceps flexing with extreme tension. I flare my eyes to scorch her subtle body while growling at the back of my throat. The only wolves capable of scent emission are the Alpha and Omega types. For sure there’s no way this dainty doll is an Alpha. I reel back to sit on my heels as my tension levels out along with my realization.

INoah’s POV The smell of Gardenia incense was so thick in the Grand Ballroom that it felt like breathing through a wet silk veil. It was Doreen’s favorite scent, a sharp, cloying floral that lacked the wild, earthy sweetemphasisehe jasmine that used to define the Thorne estate. It was a civilized scent, she had told me, designed to mask the musk of the wolves that inhabited these halls. I stood on a raised dais, my arms extended like a sacrificial lamb, while three tailors from the Capital pinned a waistcoat of shimmering charcoal brocade to my frame.

"So you can hold me down and remind me who I belong to." His jaw flexed, his fingers tightening around the leather. "You want that, angel?" "I crave it." The second box. "The Gift of Smell." I leaned in, licking my lips slowly, watching his grip tighten. “This is my scent. The one I wear when I want you to lose control.” My voice was a whisper, thick with promise. “A mix of Roja Parfums – Roja Haute Luxe… and me.” His eyes snapped to mine.

As we walk by the stalls, with Cara telling her jokes and experience of where she has been for the almost a decade, a scent hit my nose. At the instant, I stop in my tracks while Cara stares at me dumbfounded, asking me what's wrong, but all I can focus on is this usually scent, a scent I have never perceived in my entire 700 years of living. The scent composing of hyacinth and Lily, with a mix of freesia, all mixed together in one, creating a strange yet, beautiful and unique scent. What is that? The scent intensifying, making me walk towards it on reflex all while Cara follows after me disturbed. "Alec what's wrong?" Cara asks worriedly but that doesn't stop me from walking towards where i