Fangs in Frosting (5 page)

“Oh yes, Viktor, eat me. Eat me all up, you big sexy vamp.” She calls out nonsense, and it makes me smile, a true genuine smile heating the cold recesses of my unbeating heart.

I pump into her with my tongue, caressing her pussy walls, until all of her is pulsing to the same tempo, her blood pounding through her veins.

“Viktor, sunshine, my gorgeous man, my…” She dances underneath me, her breasts jiggling, her ass bouncing off the mattress.

I remove my tongue and draw back my fangs. “Come for me, Charlotte.” Lowering onto her, I ever-so-gently scrape my fangs over her clit.

She screams, levitating off the bed, flying like that bat she insists we can shift into, her body fluttering as frantically as wings. I slurp up the cream gushing from her pussy, drinking a juice more heady than the purest blood.

“Viktor, I love you. I love you so much.” Her voice is soft from her orgasm.

I move up her quieting form, rubbing my hard muscles against her soft curves, her nipples pebbling with the contact. “You are mine, Charlotte,” I tell her. She is more than mine. She is a part of me, the happy, joyous part, the light to my darkness.

She beams at me, and I kiss her lips, mixing the lingering taste of her pussy with the sweetness of her mouth. She holds my face, caressing my cheekbones with her rough baker’s fingertips, as I tangle my tongue with hers, tumbling, twisting, playing.

I’m playing. The great vampire Viktor is playing. I chuckle, amused by the ridiculous thought.

Charlotte pulls away from me, her eyes widening in mock wonder. “What was that sound, Viktor?” I stay silent, giving her my coldest, most impervious stare, and she grins, which causes my lips to twitch. “You laughed!” She releases a wonderful, light, frothy laugh of her own. “Vampires don’t laugh.” She slaps my bare chest. “Don’t you know that?”

“I’m an old and powerful vampire,” I declare in a commanding tone. “I do as I please.” I then smile back at her. Yes, I both laughed and smiled in the same century. It is a sign of an upcoming apocalypse.

“I am a young and powerless vampire.” She mimics my voice. According to her, I sound like a stuck up prig. “And I ask you to please do me.” She pushes up with her hips, bumping against my hard-as-hell cock.

“I will consider your request, child,” I tease, kissing her neck. Hell, I laughed and smiled today. I might as well indulge in the whole trifuckta and tease her also. “It could take some time.” I move over her, fucking her without entry, sliding my cock between her soft thighs.

“Is there anything I can do, oh grim and gruesome one” -- she reaches between us, curling her fingers around my shaft -- “to speed up the process?”

I groan into her neck as she runs her hand up and down my cock, working me to the rhythm of my dry humping. Her touch feels too good, and I won’t last long.

“Charlotte,” I murmur, and she spreads her thighs in welcome. Harsh raw emotions roll over me as I push my cock inside her hot pussy, sliding, sliding, sliding until I’m buried in ecstasy up to my base.

I pause, relishing the exquisite connection. We are one, our bodies joined as man and woman, our souls entwined as vampire and beloved.

The feelings threaten to overwhelm me, and I search Charlotte’s expressive face, anchoring myself to her love. She hides nothing from me. Her eyes are red with desire, and her mouth is open, begging for a kiss.

I cover her lips with mine, and I move, rocking into her, undulating on top of her curves, stroking and caressing her with all of my body. She grips my shoulders, her short blunt fingernails imprinting crescent moons into my skin. I will quickly heal, concealing her marks, but her branding of my body, and my heart, will remain.

Charlotte, my beloved, pants in my ear, calling my name with ardor and delight, and I fuck her with increasing vigor, slamming into her, causing her breasts to bounce against my chest, further escalating my fervor. She feels so good, so warm and alive, and I thirst to taste her, to have her life’s blood coat my tongue. I drag my fangs over the curve of her cheek, along her jaw, down her neck.

“Yes.” She grasps the nape of my neck, clutching me to her. “Bite me, Viktor.”

Knowing that if I bite her, I’ll come, I resist her siren call, stroking her neck with my fangs, up and down, up and down, as I pound my cock into her pussy. I hold off until my balls ache and she shakes, her inner muscles winding tight around my shaft, hugging me with her intimate embrace.

My orgasm grips me, and I arch back, baring my teeth. “Charlotte!” I sink my teeth into the sweet spot where her neck meets her shoulders, and I drive my hips forward.

As my fangs hit vein, and her blood rushes into me, I come, pumping my cum into her pussy. She shatters, calling my name, raking my back with her extended claws.

The pain is delectable, her blood is euphoric, and Charlotte is my beloved. There is no other word to describe our bond. “I love you,” I tell her, all my inhibitions blown to hell with the heady experience.

I lick the puncture marks on her skin, and I roll, pulling her on top of me. “I love you,” I repeat, having received no response from my first confession.

“I love you, Viktor.” She kisses my flat male nipple. “My beloved.”

I smile, waves of genuine joy sweeping over me. The earth doesn’t burst into flames or crack open like an egg, so I continue to smile.

Cynthia Sax

Cynthia Sax lives in a world where demons aren’t all bad, angels aren’t all good, and magic happens every single day. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they love. They live passionately. They fight fiercely. They love the same women forever.

Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research. He receives a daily briefing on what every character is doing. You can also learn what Cynthia Sax’s characters are doing by visiting her website at www.CynthiaSax.com or emailing her directly at [email protected].