Vampire Blood Bath And Body Works Perfume Novels & Stories

“your right. I probably shouldn’t come too close to you. Wouldn’t want to catch whatever you have. Come girls, let’s go. She’s too hazardous to be around.” they strutted out as confident as ever. I shook off their words and made my way to work. I worked at the top perfume outlet in the city. I was the clerk and my werewolf's nose allowed me to land the job quickly. As I could tell what top, middle and low notes of each perfume. Which made it easy for me to make a sale. Maybe an unfair advantage to the rest of the staff as I’ve been having top sales every month for the last year.

More and more. Whenever he touched me, it felt like he was painting over my skin with ink from his fingers. I inhaled his masculine scent. Demian never used cologne. Like all vampires, Demian’s sense of smell was strong. Colognes and strong smells gave him a bad headache. I was just a human and even I had a headache whenever I smelt cologne or any kind of strong scent. “You never tell me to stop,” Demian said. “I never want you to.”

He signed his hand to ask for Marrison to continue his conversation with Sonya. Sonya rubbed her forehead and tucked her hair strands in her ear. She sighed as she took her seat again. She smelled two different scents of male vampires in the room, the old one smelled like something was burned with some bloody scent but not too much gore, and the other smelled like a fresher blood scent that was hidden by a citrus, lavender, and sandalwood flavored perfume.

Not odd, but almost foreign. Vampire bodies never decay, because they were immortals, at least, their bodies are, nor did they have scents like shifters or any other creatures did. Their bodies worked differently than hours. The only thing they felt were hunger and lust, real fucking cold-blooded killers. So the chance that the scent belonged to a vampire was pretty damn low. There was a shifter element to it – that familiar musk of earth and animal, the tang of adrenaline that all of our kind carried. But it was twisted, warped with something else. Something that made the hair on the back of our neck stand up.

With that ability, I could have any woman eating out of the palm of my hand—literally. Excited, I added the "Hand of Arousal" to my cart and continued browsing. Another item piqued my interest: "Hypnotic Perfume" for $300,000. This perfume claimed to release pheromones that could subtly influence the wearer's surroundings, making them more suggestible and compliant. It was a perfect complement to the Hand of Arousal, ensuring that any woman I touched would be putty in my hands.

The exquisite terror of giving your blood, your body, and perhaps even your soul to something far older and more powerful than you. That obsession is precisely what led me to the website. It was past three in the morning. I had just finished a particularly filthy novel where the ancient vampire lord claimed his mortal lover on an altar of black marble while draining her during the height of her orgasm. My body was still buzzing, thighs slick, heart racing, when I stumbled into the darkest corners of the internet — forums so obscure that even seasoned degenerates whispered about them. And there it was. Blood Party – Invitation Only.

Her voice trembled as she spoke to her reflection, “Just a few more drops.” Her fingers shook as she tipped the small glass vial over her collarbones. The clear liquid hissed a little when it hit her skin. It was a black-market scent-suppressant, strongly silver-laced. To the average human, it was like a soft scent. To a werewolf, it was just pain. The silver ate at her inherent biological signature, dissolving her smell until she was nothing but pricey vanilla and artificial roses. It was the one thing that kept her going.

It's like he bathed in a bottle of some nasty smelling cologne. My only assumption is he tried to put enough on his body so he couldn't smell his mate in the pack house. Fun fact about werewolves, we don't like cologne or perfume. We don't like things that alter our natural body scent too much. We only like things that will enhance our natural body scent. This idiot smells like he bathed in a bottle of Nautica cologne! Which I'm sure to a human would be quite pleasing. But to a werewolf it smells like shit.

Oh … His bloodied wounds hadn't completely healed. And even though they weren't visible beyond his clothes, the smell of his recent bloodletting was unmistakable. My nostrils caught the faint scent that I had become accustomed to; sex, blood, and werewolf. Shit, vampires were notorious for knowing when you've had sex and now they knew that we'd spilled each other's blood. Yes, I was not happy about announcing our freaky sex, but more importantly, werewolf blood was a delicacy to vampires.

"What's the smell? Disgusting!" Gabriel, with no shame, without hesitation, showed his unpleasant attitude even before entering the house. "Disgusting? This is a lavender smell. It is known as the most powerful, calming perfume. Besides, how do you know all this? Dracula's learned nothing but the smell of blood." Jonathan didn't bother with Gabriel. Saying this, he twirled his finger in the air and the smell is gone completely. "No, I am well-known about the lavender smell. I have smelled twice fro.... fro..... Whatever, and we're not Dracula, insects," Gabriel said and sat on a chair that was placed beside the fireplace.