Smutty Novels & Stories

His scent—cedar, smoke, him—filled my lungs and steadied me. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't know. I didn't know I—" "Shh," he said. "You don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong." I looked up at him. His silver eyes were soft, tender. Nothing like the cold playboy everyone saw. "I'm a Mute Omega," I said. My voice was raw, barely a whisper. "That means I'm—" "Dangerous," he said. "Yeah. I heard."

“Dad, the company did well this year. Net profit is up thirty percent. “Uncle Dylan is doing fine. He even climbed the Great Wall last month. “I have been working on a new energy project lately. It looks promising. “Oh, right, Dad, I have a girlfriend now. She is very nice. She cooks very well. “Next time, I will bring her to see you.” I paused for a moment. I put on a smile. “Never mind, Dad. No rush. Take your time. I will be fine in this world.” The wind stopped. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell across the gravestone, across my father’s photograph. In the photo, he was still smiling, the same way he had smiled eighteen years ago. (The End)

I've been able to smell people's emotions since I was a child. Affection smells sweet. Sorrow smells bitter. Disgust and anger smell spicy. I'd been with Bruce Dawson for ten years, and the scent that clung to him had never changed. It was always sweet, cloyingly so. The only thing that ever shifted was the day my older sister left the country. That night, when he came home late, his scent had turned bitter enough to make me frown. But I never connected the two. Not until three years later, when my sister came home to get married. That day, his scent was bitter laced with something spicy, a mix I'd never smelled on him before. It struck me as strange. Without thinking, I followed him

My irritation immediately went through the roof. "What exactly is funny?" I watched her struggle to explain herself, still laughing while apologizing for the misunderstanding. I shook my head. They should have been ashamed of themselves. This was a professional household, not some place where people could simply walk in and waste everyone's time. My wolf stirred. *Watch how you talk about our mate, my wolf warned.* "She's an embarrassment," I shot back. "I knew you had bad taste in women. I just didn't realize it was this awful."

I’m breathing hard, chest rising and falling, knuckles burning, face throbbing. Mateo doesn’t look much better. Split lip, one eye already starting to swell… and he’s still smiling. Idiot. “Fucking psycho,” he spits. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you.” I shrug off the hands holding me, ready to go again. “Shut up.” He wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, not taking his eyes off me. “It’s not your business,” he adds. “It never was.”

The air hung heavy with sex: salty cum, her tangy cream, his musky sweat, all undercut by the faint lemon polish of the living room. Indiana's chest heaved, nipples raw and darkened from his teeth marks, faint bruises blooming on her hips where his thumbs had dug in. The good-girl shame flickered briefly *what if the neighbor lady drops by for sugar?* But it drowned in the sated glow, her clit still tingling with echoes. She reached down, fingers scooping the leaking cum, bringing it to her lips for a taste bitter-salt on her tongue, mixed with her sweetness. Mike growled approval, cock twitching back to half-mast already. "Fuck, you're insatiable. Didn't peg you for this under that apron."

It was Patchouli. Deep, woody, and expensive—the kind of scent that felt grounded but distant. It was exactly what Mortimer had smelled like for years. "Oh! Sorry about that!" Dr. Smith scrambled to hide the bottle, instantly snapping back into his "serious doctor" persona. "Miss Hale, my apologies. I didn't see you come in. I didn't mean to get that on you." He gave her a sheepish grin. "It's fine," Seraphina said, shaking it off.

Imprisoning my movements. He smelled a mixture of his signature aftershave, a manly perfume with a hint of mint and faint rum. I couldn't take it; he was doing something with my body and I didn't want it. I couldn’t possibly be wanting it. "What are you doing to me?" I whispered.

The carboxylic smell and the pity eyes if people are drastic . All the three ,got stunned .they got scared . Satya dared to raise voice against,Sam . But ,what they saw made them feel like it's a dream . Sam cupped her cheeks and attempted to make her understand, " Try to understand !!! Now ,your health condition is not good !! I want you to be safe and secure. be good " Sam coaxed ,her .But ,he failed to think one-thing .if he's previous, horrible Sam to her. then ,she might have agreed Instead ,now it's different.

she asked. Clouded with the combining heavy stench of cigarettes and the thick, velvety scent of perfume, Adler's office becomes slowly slated with a cloud of adamantly vehement lust. Though he was getting drunk with carnal covetousness, he prevented himself from being carried on and relaxed his back on his chair's backrest. "You know that I'm engaged to a random stranger since I was born, right?"