Amorous Perfume Novels & Stories

🔞 🔞🔞This book contains explicit sexual content and is intended for mature readers only. I traded my freedom for a last name. Now, I wear silence like perfume and lies like lipstick. To the world, I’m the elegant wife of Mattio — wealthy, powerful, untouchable. Behind closed doors, I’m his possession. A woman trapped in a gilded cage, drowning in a marriage built on control. Then came him. Maxwell. A stranger who touched me like I mattered — just once. A stolen night that made me feel alive again. But my brief escape shatters when I walk downstairs… and see him smiling in my living room. He’s not a stranger anymore. He’s Mattio’s long-lost stepbrother. Now I’m caught between the man who owns me… And the man who awakened everything I thought I’d lost. Secrets unravel. Desires ignite. And one wrong move could ruin us all. How do you forget the one man who made you feel human again—when he’s now part of your family?

Kissed by the Man Who Broke Me By Nweke Ogochukwu Divinefavour She loved him like he hung the stars. He loved her… until he didn’t. Liana Reed never meant to fall for Adrian Blackwell — her boss, her mentor, the man every woman in the city wanted. He was powerful, charming, and impossibly hard to resist. One kiss turned into a secret love affair that consumed them both. But just when Liana believed she’d finally found her forever, a single lie shattered everything. A whispered rumor. A woman’s perfume on his shirt. A betrayal she never saw coming. Now, two years later, she’s back — no longer the naïve girl who once believed in fairy tales. She’s beautiful, successful, and determined to make him pay for the way he broke her heart. But revenge is never simple. Because the moment she sees him again, those old by feelings burn brighter than ever — and the man who once destroyed her is the same one her heart can’t seem to forget. Love. Hate. Passion. Pain. How do you destroy the man who still owns your heart?

The day my husband's first love shows up at my house, I catch a faint, cloyingly sweet scent of gardenias in the air. My genetically-linked asthma flares violently at the scent of gardenias. As expected, halfway through the meal, my chest suddenly tightens. I can barely draw a breath before collapsing onto the couch. My younger brother sprints into my bedroom like he's lost his mind, grabs an inhaler, and shoves it straight to my mouth. "Tess!" he roars. "Why the hell is there gardenia perfume?" Everyone panics. My dad grabs a liquor bottle. My mom lunges forward, grabbing the woman by the hair. And my husband positions himself in front of her, protecting his beloved first love as she trembles. Amid the chaos, I muster the last of my strength. I reach into the crack of the couch, grab another inhaler, take a deep breath, and slowly push myself upright. I let out a cold laugh as I fix my gaze on the woman cowering behind my husband. "Finished with your little performance? It's my turn now."

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

After years of struggling to survive, Akayda Jordan finally lands her dream job — personal assistant/secretary in one of the best companies in the whole of California. To celebrate her new beginning, she decides to give one last “performance” at the elite club she’s about to leave behind. One night. One masked encounter. One forbidden act. But fate twists cruelly. The man she had danced for in the dark turns out to be her new boss — Damian Knight. He’s engaged. She’s desperate to keep her secret buried. But when Damian starts sensing something achingly familiar about his new assistant — the scent of her perfume, the way she looks away when he stares too long — the walls between them begin to crack. But he was sure the girl with the big glasses was not the girl with the mask and firefly tattoo who had woken up a hunger in him. Soon, professionalism turns into tension. Tension turns into temptation. And the closer he gets to the truth, the more dangerous her secret becomes. Because if Damian ever discovers she’s the masked girl he’s been searching for… she might lose not just her job, but her heart.

The healer told me I had Soul Decay Syndrome. In three days, I'd be dead. The only thing that could save me was water from the Sacred Spring. But my Alpha mate, Vincent, gave it to my adopted sister, Fiona. So, during the final 72 hours of my life, I gave up everything. When I handed Fiona the perfume formulas I'd spent years developing, my parents smiled in satisfaction. When I gave up the couples' vacation package I'd won and let Vincent take Fiona to see the Northern Lights instead, he praised me for finally being mature. When I taught my daughter to call Fiona "Mom", she didn't hesitate. She turned to me without a second thought and called me "Aunt." To my family, all my sacrifices were only natural. "Fiona is a frail human. Her lifespan is much shorter." "We'll love you properly later. We'll make it up to you." I let out a mocking laugh. There was no later for me. I'd never live long enough to receive their love. And after I died, they lost their minds with regret.

Born into a blended family, Chantelle grew up on the sidelines, raised with love by her grandmother after her mother's death. Shut out by her father Gérard, dominated by his new wife Rhonda, and relegated to the background behind her pretentious stepsister Mégane, she learned to survive in silence. When her grandmother is diagnosed with a terminal illness, Chantelle's world crumbles. With no family support and overwhelmed by medical bills, she accepts a desperate proposition: one hundred nights for one million euros, with a wealthy man whose identity she will never know. The rules are simple. A blindfold over her eyes, a stranger's touch, and silence. He never speaks. She never sees. He leaves her with anonymous bank transfers... and the haunting scent of his perfume as her only memory. Twelve nights pass. Then, forced by her father to attend a family dinner, Chantelle comes face to face with Mégane's fiancé: Collen Wilkerson—the cold, unapproachable CEO of the powerful corporation where she works as a simple employee. He is a man she knows only from a distance. Arrogant. Untouchable. But when he steps closer, a familiar scent wraps around her, and the world stops. It's his perfume. The same as the masked man. She has already spent twelve nights in his arms. And there are still eighty-eight to go.

I’m Vicky Eaton, a bondless Kindred. Meaning, I don’t have a Blood Bond mate--the only human you can drink from according to the Kindred law. I’ve done my best to stick to the rule, until I realized that my new boss just smells too darn delicious for me to resist and fits every criteria to be my mate. However, I have made a vow long ago to stay bondless for eternity.**As he spoke, he licked my ear. My heart began to race again. The aroma of his Blood Perfume mixed with his natural body fragrance, stimulated my every nerve. He kissed my neck. I groaned against his touch as he removed my clothing for the third time in under 12 hours."Whatever you do…” I said breathlessly, “Don’t stop.” My words hit him hard and his moves intensified. Suddenly, he broke apart and turned his neck to me, revealing his glorious skin. I froze. Should I stay true to my past, or do I take a leap of faith and fall into the world of the Blood Bond?

I took time off work and flew out to be my best friend's maid of honor. The moment my plane landed, she picked me up and took me straight to the hotel. Not long after we got to the room, she handed me a shopping bag. Inside was the newest phone on the market, a bottle of luxury perfume, and a check for ten thousand dollars. She said with a bright, excited smile, "It's your bridesmaid gift. Even if I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life." My eyes filled with tears right there. The next morning, I woke up before sunrise. I put on my bridesmaid dress and went to find her. She was sitting in front of the vanity mirror. Stylists were moving around her, busy with her hair and makeup. When she saw me, she turned with a huge smile and waved me over, her face glowing with excitement. But the moment I stepped closer, her expression changed. It was like she had just seen something disgusting. "Get out." Her voice was low, but the disgust in it was clear. "Disappear from my sight. Right now." I froze where I stood.

The night before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That same night, I found out my fiancé had already chosen another woman to give him his first child. Adrian DeLuca, heir to a mafia empire and the man who once swore I was the only woman he would ever love, came home carrying her perfume on his clothes and told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that it was only a medical arrangement. His dead friend’s widow needed an heir, and after I had failed to give him one through sixty-six rounds of IVF, he had decided this was the best solution for everyone. I said nothing. I let him go on preparing the wedding. I let him believe I would still walk down the aisle and become Mrs. DeLuca. But while he was planning our ceremony, I was planning my disappearance. On our wedding day, the estate would still open its doors. The guests would still arrive. The ceremony would still begin. But the bride Adrian DeLuca betrayed would die there. By the time he learned the truth, that I had been carrying his child all along, I would already be gone under a new name, taking his heir somewhere he could never reach.