Scorpia X Perfuma Novels & Stories

Seraphina frowned slightly, she did not know what a familiar was however, Lady Lissandra and Lord Silverus were insisted that she had one. She made a mental not to ask Bethel later, that is if Lady Persephone let her leave this breakfast banquet alive and judging from the glares she was giving her, she very well may not. Lady Persephone softened her murderous glares and turned towards where Lady Lissandra and Lord Silverus were seated “Trust me, this wretched servant does not bare any unique markings, they are simply scars from where she has been punished over the years, if we were to strip her now, you wouldn’t want to eat for a week after seeing her disgusting disfigured body”, she spat th

A sickly metallic scent beneath Liora’s perfume. A hint of crushed herbs and bitter poison. Scarlet’s voice came out low and deadly. “You did something to him.” Liora’s eyes widened for half a second, then she forced another smirk. “What? Your precious Alpha can’t handle a little pain?” she mocked. “Or are you scared he’ll die before you can fuck him again?” Scarlet’s hand moved so fast Liora didn’t see it coming. She grabbed Liora’s throat. Pinned her against the wall.

"You've got guts to talk like that. Duncan could kill you with one finger. Your boasting skills have improved, at least." Seemingly wanting to change the subject, Scorpia said, "I'm not here for anything special. I just need to take someone with me. You don't mind, right?" Viggo pretended not to understand. "Are you here to take me? You're not capable of that. Or do you mean those Giantborn kids? Why would you be interested in them?" Scorpia glared coldly and snorted again. "Stop playing games. I want the one called Felix. You know exactly who I mean."

Now, silence lived in the corners of the house. Mark came down late that morning, already dressed, tie knotted tight, jacket folded neatly over his arm. He kissed her on the cheek, and she noticed it faint but unmistakable a scent that didn’t belong to her. It was floral, sharp, and expensive. Jasmine, maybe. Clara’s perfume was sandalwood and bergamot earthy, restrained. This was something younger, brighter. “Morning,” he said, brushing past her to pour coffee. “Morning,” she echoed.

I whispered, kissing down her neck and squeezed her boobs with my other hand while she buried her hands through my hair, pulling it by the roots. "Ahhhh...I'm gonna come," she cried out in pleasure and came all over my hands quickly. "So all night of fucking. Are you ready, Ms. Perez?" I smirked, licking my hands clean. "Are you?" she raised her eyebrows, breathing heavily and I grinned, throwing her on my shoulders and we made our way towards her bedroom. I could help but wonder if it was possible to love someone this much.

See me as his woman. I tugged nervously at the hem of my dress, the satin smooth beneath my trembling fingers. It was the dress I’d worn the night Nathan and I were mated. I’d chosen it tonight in some desperate hope that it would remind him of the bond we shared, but now it felt foolish. He hadn’t even noticed. Suddenly, Coral’s sharp voice pierced through the music and laughter. “Rowena!” She called sweetly, her voice full of false kindness. I turned, forcing a smile as she approached, her red dress clinging to her like a second skin. She looked like she belonged on Nathan’s arm, not me.

"This is what you did to Amaranth, and now I will make sure you suffer the same death!" Luther spread gasoline everywhere. The moment Reya sniffed the distinctive and sharp smell of gasoline, she wrapped herself tightly around his foot. "Luther, are you insane? It’s me, Reya! The girl you love the most!" It was the wrong thing to say because it provoked him even further. His expression turned from blank to a hideous scowl. He glared at her vehemently, then grabbed her hair and roared in her ears.

Amara stared back, trying to project a semblance of stillness, refusing to betray the sheer terror gripping her. ​Emiliano stared at her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be assessing her, her fear, her presence in his bed. He slowly walked around the bed, stopping on his side. ​He reached up, pulling his undershirt over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Amara couldn't breathe. Her gaze involuntarily dropped, taking in the powerful breadth of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the faint, intricate scars—silent trophies of a violent life—that crisscrossed his left shoulder.

“Public unity. Discretion. I’ll be your wife, your Luna, the mother of your heirs. What you do beyond that, as long as it doesn’t humiliate me or weaken the alliance, is not my concern.” Amusement bubbled up, mixing with the intrigue. She was a force, raised in luxury and power, no doubt groomed from birth for thrones and alliances. I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “You’re remarkable.” “I know,” she said, unapologetic. “You won’t find a better wife than me.” There it was again—that unshakable certainty. She was close enough that I could smell her perfume, something spicy and exotic, like cardamom and smoke. Impulse surged; I leaned in, closing the distance, my breath brushing her lips.

She is my drug, my sweet addiction, my divine kiss and my only downfall. "My love, everything I do is worth it, you'll see that you won't regret it," I hold her tightly in my arms, my nose in her perfumed hair, "I promise that today you will be the only precious jewel that my heart, mind and body will desire to pamper and have."