Fangs in Frosting (3 page)

My gaze lowers. His cock is hard, and huge, pointing to the mud-colored ceiling, like an ivory homage to manhood. Dark hair curls around his base and balls. I lick my lips, the blue veins covering his shaft triggering my hunger. His legs are long and lean. Like I said, he’s pale perfection. Even his toenails are immaculately groomed.

“You should feed,” Viktor informs me. His eyes glow crimson, and he strokes his cock with one large hand. There’s a signet ring on his finger with a dark red, almost black stone set in the finely engraved gold.

I’m not the sharpest blade in the drawer, especially in the morning, but even I get the hint. The man wants his cock sucked, and I’m more than willing to give him a treat. Being a baker, I’m an oral gal, and I’ll stick anything I can into my mouth. I especially love sucking cock, tasting the inner essence of my lovers.

I roll over, ignoring the aches and pains in my well-used body. I feel like I’ve been run over by a delivery truck.

“Oh, I’ll feed all right, sunshine.” I smile at him. “I’m going to suck this bad boy dry.” I wrap my fingers around his shaft, and stick out my tongue, licking the precum off his tip.

He’s salty with a hint of copper and rust, like he’s been cooked in an ancient pan. The flavor appeals to me, and, after telling him this, I lick Viktor’s cock some more, with quick, light flicks of my tongue as I’d lick the coconut cream cheese icing off a vanilla cupcake.

Viktor groans and wiggles his ass, flesh swishing against fabric, so I tease him, exploring his slit, searching his skin for more cum. I’m a little foggy as to what happened last night, but I do know what will happen now. I’m about to give my dour and dismal man a cock-sucking he won’t ever forget.

04 Viktor’s Journal

I’ve created a monster. Charlotte’s red curls bounce around her face while her dainty pink tongue swirls around and around my cock. She moans and sighs and coos about how big I am, and how good I taste, swelling both my already secure ego and my equally engorged shaft.

I inhale sharply as she lowers her lips over my cock, taking my tip into her mouth up to my rim. She sucks gently, the pull felt down to the soul I thought I no longer had.

“Charlotte, beloved.” I thread shaking fingers through the silk of her hair. After tormenting me with one, two, three circles of her tongue around my fleshy ridge, she sinks down on me, taking my cock completely into her mouth, her cute button nose buried in my pubic hair, her chin rubbing between my aching balls.

My cock bobs, and she smiles, her lips curled around my shaft. Over the past couple of days, she’s gone through the hellish transformation from human to vampire, yet during those long hours, I’ve frequently been treated to that joyous smile of hers.

I vow to safeguard her bubbly personality as I will protect her lush body. She is mine to cherish. I cup her indented cheeks, her mouth sucking and releasing, sucking and releasing, tugging on my sensitive skin.

Charlotte palms my balls, squeezing them gently to the rhythm of her bobbing. She is mine, but I am hers. She holds me in her hands, her mouth, and her heart.

I haven’t felt this close of a connection to anyone other than my maker, and perhaps not even to that long dead vampire. He was a sadistic bastard, and Charlotte is as sweet as those cupcakes she bakes.

She licks along the veins of my shaft. I don’t have to enter her mind to read her thoughts. I see them written on her face. She’s hungry for my blood, and she doesn’t know why, and this scares her.

“Suck me off, Charlotte, and then you can feed.” I can better explain what I’ve done to her after I ease the agony in my balls.

“Viktor?” Her fangs drop, slicing her bottom lip, and her tantalizing blood scents the air, escalating my need for her to unmanageable levels.

“Suck me,” I command, pushing her head downward.

Her emerald green eyes glitter with rebellion, but she does as she’s told, inhaling my cock up to my base. I sigh with satisfaction, and then moan with desire, as she works my cock with a punishing intensity, her sucking harsh, and her movements fast, with her fangs grazing my skin.

I hold out for mere minutes, my control wearing thinner and thinner with each brutal suck. I’m an elder, and only she can do this to me, pushing me to the edge of all reason. “Charlotte, beloved,” I warn her.

Her fangs prick my base, and I roar, testing the limits of our soundproof bedroom. I thrust my hips upward, my cockhead pounding against the back of her throat, and Charlotte sputters as my cum fills her mouth, but my beloved gulps it down, not wasting a drop of my white vampire spunk.

While she swallows, she sucks shallowly, mixing blood and cum in an erotic combination I’ve heard past lovers describe, but have never experienced myself.

My cock is drained, and I quiet, lying still, my limp cock in her mouth, allowing her to feed off me. “You’re like me now, Charlotte.” I wind one of her curls around my finger. I wanted to prepare her more for this change, but my wants are no longer possible. “We are vampire.”

She breaks from me unaided, and licks me, speeding my healing process. Pride fills my chest. My strong woman has already learned self-control.

“It wasn’t a nightmare, was it? The shooting? The pain? The blood?” she asks and I nod. “The window!” Charlotte sits up. “The guy shot it out. I have to get back to the shop, or they’ll steal me blind.” She scrambles off me.

I catch her wrist, stopping her. She twists her arm, but I don’t release her. I tell my beloved she’s a vampire, and her first concern is her business. She loves her cupcake shop, and I’ve taken that dream away from her.

No, the gunman took it away. “You were dying, Charlotte. I couldn’t allow that.” She means too much to me. “I had to turn you.”

“Yes, yes.” She waves her free hand. “I was dying, and you saved me and now I’m a vampire, a blood-sucking goth girl. I get that. About my shop --”

“Charlotte.” I try to smile, in an attempt to comfort her, but after centuries of frowning, it feels unnatural and from her widening eyes, I know I haven’t successfully captured the expression. “The cupcake shop is your old life. You can’t return to it.”

“Why not? Is it because of the sunlight thing?” She frowns for a second, and I quickly gather my thoughts, wishing to say the right things to make it easier on her, but when she smiles, her face glowing with excitement, I realize I’m too slow. “It’s not like I have to open during the day. It can be part of our marketing angle. We can do only night events, and --”

“And when you don’t age?” I break into her flow of words. “Or get sick? Or go out during the day? The humans will ask questions, and questions will make other vampires nervous. Dangerously nervous.” The Council members are tight asses about secrecy. I should know. I’m one of the tight asses. “You can’t go back, not now, not ever.”

“Oh.” Charlotte stares at me, and her body stills. I brace for her reaction. “Can I at least get my mother’s muffin pan?” Her voice is small, and her pain gouges into me.

“It is important to sever all ties to your previous existence.” I repeat the advice my maker gave me. “So no, we can’t retrieve it.”

“No one would know,” she pleads, covering my hand with hers. “I’ll slip in and out, and no one will see me, and no one will miss it because it’s not worth anything to anyone other than me.”

“No.”
God
. This is hard.

“Please, Viktor.” Her eyes glaze with the sheen of unshed tears. “It is the only thing I have left of my mother. I promise I’ll do anything else you ask of me. Let me get it.”

“No.” I feel like the most evil creature on the face of the planet, because I am. I’m a heartless vampire, a cold-blooded predator. “It’s for your safety, Charlotte. The humans will be watching for you. They’ll have the place under surveillance. If they find out who, or what, you are, they’ll hunt you down and kill you, and if they aren’t successful, another vampire will be. You’ll die permanently this time.” And I will die with her because I can’t go back to a life alone, without my Charlotte.

The joy vanishes from her face, and my world darkens as though she has flicked the lights off. Her shoulders slump, and her head lowers, her expressive eyes hidden from me.

Does she hate me? Fear me? I can’t stand not knowing so I slip into her mind. Her thoughts are like a flock of frightened blackbirds, all dark and without color and flying in different directions. I sense hatred directed at the circumstances, not at me, and I feel the warm burst of love. She loves me, the vampire, the killer.

“Oh, well.” Charlotte’s spine straightens, and she meets my gaze, determination and entrepreneurial zeal illuminating her freckled skin. “There are other pans, and I can start over again.”

She crawls back into our bed, snuggling up to my side. I put my arm around her, a tinge of wariness tempering my happiness. She is taking this transformation surprisingly well.

“I have some questions.” She props her chin up on my chest.

A swell of panic rises within me, and I harshly bat it down. Questions are normal for the newly turned, I tell myself. They must learn the vampire rules, what to eat, and when to sleep, and how to survive amongst the humans. “Ask.” I review Vampire 101 in my mind, preparing to teach my beloved all that I know.

“Do vampires have a banking system, and do they require credit checks?” She frowns. “Because I owe a human-run bank quite a bit of money, and my repayments have been, well” -- she worries her bottom lip with her fangs --”variable, I guess you could say. I don’t have any down payment either, and that’ll take some time to save up for. Maybe until then, I can use your kitchen.” She smiles. “Do vampires have a health code?”

Her questions, all business or baking-related, spill out of her mouth in a continual stream. As I listen, I curse for the hundredth time my lack of preparedness. I have to visit my friend, Helena, before Charlotte notices she hasn’t a hunger for anything other than blood, as baking brings my beloved happiness, and I don’t know what will happen if she thinks she’ll never bake again.

“Charlotte.” I hold her face between my hands. She’s so beautiful, and I want to fuck her again, but first I should relay some of my knowledge. “Do you have any questions about you becoming a vampire?”

“Oh, yes.” She tilts her head, her forehead scrunched up in thought. “How do I turn into a bat?”

I don’t want to know why she has a need to turn into a flying rodent. “You don’t. That’s a myth.”

“Says who?” Her finely arched eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “I thought vampires were myths too, and clearly that’s wrong.”

“I know,” I tell her with complete confidence in my answer. I’ve been around for over a thousand years, and I’ve never heard of any vampire turning into a bat.

“How could you know that, smartie pants?” Her green eyes sparkle with humor. “Have you tried? I mean,
really
tried, not a casual maybe-I’ll-become-a-bat-today half-assed attempt, but made a concentrated effort at full, glorious batdom?”

I smile, and this time I must have successfully captured the expression because she laughs, patting my bare chest. Her love tap awakens my napping cock, and I flip her onto her back, stopping any additional silly questions with a deep, long, thorough kiss.

05 Charlotte’s Journal

Viktor has some big vampire meeting to attend, and he’ll be gone all night, he said. He assumes, no, he
told
me I’ll be staying home.

And I do… for a while, but I’m not really good at doing what I’m told, and I’m used to spending nights at the shop, and I’m not about to let my mom’s pan be tossed into the garbage which I suspect will be its grisly future if I don’t interfere.

I pull on one of Viktor’s huge black dress shirts as my yellow blouse is covered with bloodstains and smells like ricotta cheese six months past the best before date. Viktor’s designer shirt stretches tightly across my big breasts, and gathers around my even larger hips. His skinny ass pants don’t fit so I pair it with my green skirt, and I’m good to go. I won’t win any fashion awards, but as I don’t plan to be seen, that’s okay.

I exit the sprawling mansion, which must have cost a zillion dollars ’cause it is smack dab in the middle of downtown. I don’t have any keys so I leave the door unlocked. I’m not too worried about this, as a criminal would have to be really stupid to mess with the two blood-sucking vampires now living there.

If a thief does break in, I hope it is the same asswipe who shot me. I’m not normally a violent person, but I would drink that idiot’s blood happily. He totally wrecked my cupcake world domination plans, and he left me to die, not knowing Viktor would save me. That wasn’t very nice.

As I hurry toward my shop, I stick to the gloom of the shadows. I don’t need light to see because my eyesight is now off the charts exceptional. I can see the intricate ironwork on the local tavern’s back door as clearly as if it were broad daylight.

Bats maneuver well in the dark also, so I suspect Viktor is wrong about the bat thing. Rumors tend to be based in some sort of fact. I am so going to attempt the transformation, as bat shifting would be a cool superpower to have.

I see the boards nailed over the broken window, the closed sign, and the sidewalk filled with flowers and teddy bears, and I stumble, kicking a loose piece of pavement across the street, the sound shockingly loud. There are posters offering a reward for more information, and it touches me that someone cares so much about me.

I also feel guilty, because I’m not truly missing. I know where I am. I’ve spent the last few days banging the living… ummm… the undead daylights out of a hunky vampire. This someone is worrying for nothing.

I duck under the happy yellow police tape, lift the door handle up and to the right, releasing the defective lock I bought at a steep discount, and slip into my shop.

The alarm beeps, the red light flashing. I tap in the code, but the beeping continues. The landlady must have changed the code. To what? I don’t know. I hustle to the kitchen. Having forgotten my code on previous occasions, I know I have mere minutes before the police arrive. I have to quickly retrieve my mother’s pan and leave.