A scent struck him then—no, scent wasn’t quite right, wasn’t elegant enough a word. This was a fragrance, calming and mellow, sweet with a hint of spice. Cinnamon, vanilla, and cloves, underlaid by something decidedly feminine and alluring but much harder to identify. He breathed it in deeply. Something tightened low in his belly, and his cock twitched. Fyran’s brow furrowed. What the fuck?
