Fangs in Frosting Read Free Page A

until the small yappy dog sniffs around the entrance of the shop. He wears a leash, and before the human the beast is attached to sees us, I break my beloved’s grip on my wrist, scoop her into my arms, and dart through the kitchen, exiting into the dark alley.
    A scream rents the night air, as the crime is discovered. It is a crime without a victim. Keeping to the shadows, I carry Charlotte toward my downtown mansion. She’ll never be seen again, disappearing into the night to become one of those unsolved missing persons cases that will plague police officers for years.
     

 
     
     
    03 Charlotte’s Journal
     
    I dream of blood and sex and Viktor. Feelings of excruciating pain, insatiable lust, and love, poignant and true, flood my unconsciousness.
    “Viktor,” I croak. I sound like I’ve been on one of those alcohol-induced benders I specialized in during my college years. I twist in the luxuriously soft sheets, blindly reaching for my lover, my eyes closed.
    “I’m here, beloved.” Warmth covers my shivering body, calming me, and I smell earth and blood. Liquid pumps into my mouth, and with it, memories of places I’ve never been and people I’ve never met. I suck thirstily, and Viktor groans, his hard cock pressing between my thighs.
    I open to him, and he rocks into me, riding my tortured body slowly, gently, moving as though in slow motion, while I drink. He’s naked, his bare flesh moving against mine. I’ve never seen him naked, and I want to open my eyes, but my eyelids are too heavy. Instead, I run my palms up and down his lean chest. There isn’t an ounce of flab on him. He is muscle and strength and he’s mine, I know this as surely as I know the recipe for my mother’s strawberry cupcakes.
    “Enough.” Viktor tears his wrist away from my mouth, and I pout like I’m five years old. Hey, I never claimed to be mature, and I’m so very thirsty.
    “You’re a big meanie,” I tell him in my froggy voice, and I grab his arm, trying to locate the cut, but I can’t. His wrist is already healed, which is impossible, so I must be dreaming.
    It is a kick-ass dream, as Viktor starts to fuck me hard and fast and viciously, driving my ass and shoulders into the mattress, his pelvis bumping mine, his balls smacking against my skin.
    “Yes, baby,” I call encouragement. “Fuck me harder, sweet cheeks.” I raise my hips into his thrusts, and the entire bed shakes with our enthusiasm.
    Sweet buttercream frosting with rainbow sprinkles, I’m parched, and horny. I open my mouth to scream, and fangs prick my lips, distracting me from my approaching orgasm. What the hell? I have fangs?
    “Come for me, Charlotte,” Viktor pleads, varying his angle of entry to cause more torment, and I forget about my razor-sharp chompers. “Tighten that hot pussy around my cock.”
    Well… since he asks so nicely. My inner muscles clench down on his shaft, and I bite him. Yep, I bite him on his neck, using my newly obtained fangs.
    He bellows like an angry customer, jerking against me, his heat filling my pussy. I throb and pulse and suck his blood.
    This blows my mind. I’m sucking his blood, and I like it too, no, I love it, and he’s letting me, my big kinky hunk, tilting his head to give me better access. I remove my fangs, and he tells me to lick him so I do because in my dreams, I follow his instructions, while in real life, I’d tell him to stick his head in my brand new deluxe oven.
    I’m exhausted from the fucking, and the kindergarten cannibalism. Viktor pulls me to his chest, bearing me no hard feelings for substituting as my midnight snack, and I place my cheek over where his heart should be, except it isn’t there, because I don’t hear a heartbeat.
    Freakin’ fondant. This is the craziest trip I’ve ever been on, even more nuts than the time I snorted a half bag of icing sugar on a dare. Nothing makes sense, especially the blood sucking.
    “Sleep,” Viktor commands. He rubs the worry lines