He watches as she sleeps. Sleeps alone in her bed each night. His book laying beside her, the computer not too far from her reach. Should she ever wake from a dream and have to type it up. He knows she's read his book numerous times. So many that she could almost understand his plight. His torment. He sighs as the moon filters into her room. Through the French doors that lead into the room.

He does this every night. Every night since he cast his eyes upon her. Some would say he was possessed if they knew. Possessed by her earthly bounds. Her sensuality. Her desperate need to connect to a creature that she only read about in books. It pulled him. Aroused him. Intrigued him more than he could ever imagine. Why would someone want to connect to something like him? Like what he is? He would come to her earlier but he doesn't want to be seen. Be noticed. Have her learn about him. Something inside him would be crushed if she knew. Knew that she's admired from afar.

It's nearly the same routine every night. Each night, she types a little more. Each night he sneaks in and reads what she's written. Many of nights it's about him. The touch and desire that courses through her very luscious veins. The way she writes about him stirs him. Takes him to another plane of existence. There is deep love and worship in these writings; yet a clear fear of him. Of what he is...of what he could do to her if she found out his existence. Some nights it's about love, despair, hope and the endless stream of free writing. Whatever comes to her mind. There is no set date. No journal-like entries.

There is a many of night, she stirs and fights in her sleep. As if he's there. In her mind. In her dreams. Doing things only her imagination can conjure. He is curious. Wanting to know what her minds dreams of every night. Is it always him? In her bed and body? Or is she fleeing from him? From something that he cannot explain. The sheets are always low. Satin, pulled never close to her body. As if she has an open invitation. The beautiful shadow of her neck...tantalizing. He can feel himself salivate over her. Over what's in her veins. Her clothes, as sparse as he can see is only a night shirt. Many nights long enough to touch her mid-thighs. Some nights, when it's hot, she's nude before him. Like a beautiful Grecian statue that must be drawn and admired.

For he, cannot function until he flies to her balcony and looks in. There is never another in her bed. As if she's denied all mortal men her body. He is never there to see her in the daylight, but he knows her night life. How it changes, but stays the same. What kind of wine she prefers or how she slowly undresses to take a shower. He knew he shouldn't be watching her. Keeping an eye out. When he did see her with a man, intense jealously rose from him. Anger poured from every pore in his body. What was this? This maddening jealously? She didn't belong to him. This, he knew. Of course, she could belong to him, but would she take him?

Even he, peeked in when she was showering. Seeing the droplets fall from her frame, taking in her every movement. He watched as she would slowly wash herself. The way the loofah moved across and down her body. The bubbles that cascaded to the bottom of the shower. He was aroused each time he watched. He knew he shouldn't watch. This was supposed to be her alone time. Something touched him as he would watch her wash and each time despair fell over him as he would watch her towel off. Then, he knew, she would be clothed. Yet, it was enough to close his eyes and imagine.

The nights best to watch from his shadowy spot was when the moon was aglow. Like a ghost waiting in the distance; in the shadows. Peering but never touching. Sometimes he would watch her dance. Some nights she would read his book as if it were her Bible. How she devoured the book. The sentences, he was sure, by heart. Occassionally he would watch as she would mouth the words and he would mouth them back. He's seen her grab tissues and cry over his soul. He weeps with her. Remembering his life...the story. However tragic, yet triumphent it was.

She is young, he notes. Perhaps in her twenties. Her body with the curves of a Goddess, yet young enough to be fragile. He only wished he could see her in daylight. See what the sun does to her luminious skin. He wonders if she knows he is watching her. Maybe she does. Her balcony doors are always unlocked. He sneaks in like a cat. Has she felt his breath on her neck? Her cheek? As he slowly kisses it, tasting just enough to torture him. He aches as he pulls away from her each time. In his mind, he thinks of her as a poet. One who hides her passion with gusto. Denies the world her plight, while he; reads it every night.

Did he love her? In some sort of fairytale like dream, maybe. He was more obsessed with her than loving her. Could he love her? Of course. Could she love him...the thought plagued him intensely. He never knew how long he sat there and watched her. How far long gone was his mind? He would occassionally glance up at the stars, wishing, hoping. Hoping for a dream that may never come true. It grieved him every time he had to leave her side. Return to his home and sleep for another day. Wondering what she would be doing? He was a pilgrim and she, his shrine. If only he could worship her in the light.

Each night, he would tell himself "today's the day." But each time, he would fail. Fail to step in. Though tonight, something was different. The routine was the same, but as she slept, something was unusual. As he leaned against the door frame, sometimes, on the floor; he watched her struggle in her sleep. Her head tossing back and forth, her body arching and she nearly kicked her computer off the bed. Intrigued, he journeyed farther into her room. The soft carpet deafening his shoes. As he leaned close to her, he could hear her heart rate speed up. Her breathing had changed. When she moaned, his eyes widened as he witnessed her in an intense sexual dream!

Blushing like a virgin, he wished to step away and let her continue. Never to disturb her. But something kept him there. Kept him watching. Gently sitting down on the bed, close to her writhing body. He was stepping over his own bounds. Should he be doing this? This close to her? The beat of her heart was maddening. He watched as she grabbed the sheets and bit her lip. His eyes steady, he watched her. Absorbing her. Trying to imagine who was with her in her dream. Vanity struck him as he believed it could be him. He was the one she wrote about every night. Or so he hoped.

His mind in a trance, he felt himself move. Though he thought he was leaving her side. His body said otherwise. Leaning down, his lips brushed her neck. Just as if a butterfly had journeyed into her room and landed on her neck to rest. He could feel it. In his mind. In the far back of it. The thrill. The lust. Pressing his lips harder onto her neck, he gently began to massage her throat. The throat that he had a passion for. Before he could stop himself, he felt his teeth grow longer. The soft pierecing of the skin. Once blood touched his lips, he reeled back. In horror.

What had he done? He had tasted his Goddess. His hand touched his mouth. He could still taste her. Backing into the door, he stumbled over his own feet. The world crashed around him. He felt the angels had sang unto him, yet damned him for his sins. The noise felt as if it reverberated around the world and even in the depths of Hell, Satan heard him. He hoped she hadn't heard him. Heard him act like a fool. Like a foolish lover...no foolish boy. His eyes stayed on her. Waiting,...watching.

He gasped as she sat up in bed. Her hand on her neck. Sweat pouring off her delicious body. He could see every droplet fall down her. The sheets tangled as if two lovers had made love. Seeing her turn her head in every direction but his, he hoped he could become invisible enough. Invisibility wasn't in his favor right now. Then, suddenly, as if by some ancient magic, their eyes met. Her dark brown with his icy blue. A fire and ice dancing. Dancing to see who would win. Her eyes widened as she recognized there was a person in her room. Several floors above the ground level.

Her eyes searched for her book. When she found it, she opened it to the page describing his appearence. Reading quickly, though she didn't need too, her head whipped around to stare at him. She couldn't believe it. He was there. In her apartment. Watching her. Then she saw the blood smeared on his chin. Her eyes widened again. As she touched her neck, she winced. He had bitten her! This was the one man she had been dreaming about...writing about. For ever since she bought the book.

She wished to know if he were real. In her mind; the cornacopiea of images that would astound even the most extreme obessessed lovers. A fatal attraction. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she ached for him. Always felt as if she were being watched. Like she, of all the women had been chosen, by him and for him. In the deep winding labyrinth, she chased this dream. Never reaching the center until now. Until he stood in front of her. Watching her. Seeing what she would do to him. As her dark eyes scanned his luminous body, she felt a heat between her legs like she hadn't ever felt.

Pushing down her desire that was coursing so hot in her veins. She was sure he could feel it. Know it...and Hell, probably taste it. She moved slowly. Not to scare him. He looked as if he were a deer in the headlights. Almost as if she were about to crush him. Crush him so deeply that he could fly off this balcony and she'd never see him again. As her bare feet touched the cold floor, a shiver went through her. Oddly enough, it was warm in the room. Each small step she took, was another toward reality or imagination.

Less than a step away from him, she stopped and admired him. Close for her to see. He was beautiful. Haunted. Terrified of something happening. Her body and mind ached for him. Each time his eyes scanned over her, she felt delicious in his eyes. Like he could throw her on the bed and give her ultimate pleasure. Do things to her that she could only dream and write about. Carefully, she lifted a hand. As if she were showing the peace flag to him. When she saw his eyes shift, a slight nod of the head; something in her moved. Touching his chest with her hand, she felt him shudder underneath her.

His eyes closed. She was touching him. Finally. Something he had only dreamed about. Obsessed about. His mind roared as her hand began to roam his chest. He couldn't take his eyes off her, yet he couldn't start to form a cohernet sentence. He couldn't make his body obey and tell her to stop. Stop touching him before he threw her on the bed and made love to her. Make love to her? Did his mind really say that? Looking into her eyes, his arousal began to spike. Nearly three centuries of what he was and finally he was having to use self-control.

He could tell she wanted him. Wanted to connect with him. But did he want that? Want to be in her most intimate presence? And her blood. He could smell it. Taste it in the air. He felt his hand move toward. He ached to touch her. Feel her skin underneath his fingers. Rubbing his fingers along her neck, he was amazed how she complied without fighting. How her neck tipped, willing and eager for his bite. He leaned forward and brushed his lips aganist her neck.

He heard her gasp, her mouth opened to let a soft moan out. As he backed them toward the bed, he didn't dare bite her again...Not yet. A smirk played on his lips as she pulled them down onto the bed. Was this really happening? As his lips left her supple neck they journeyed to her mouth. The first taste and he wasn't disappointed. Sweet and soft like the owner. They laid there for a few minutes, just tasting each other. Getting to know each other. As his hands roamed her body, he wanted to feel all of her.

It wouldn't take her long to succumb to his own natural desires. He knew that she could match his passion. As her mouth opened to him, he felt her fall. Fall from her mountaintop. Their bodies danced together. Pushing her up the bed, he grabbed her sheets, pulling them down. Pulling her closer to him. Smelling her scent. Driving him into complete madness. He must have her in everyway possible.

She pushed him up, pushed him and undressed him slowly. Her lips traveling his body as she undid each button of his shirt. He threw his head back, his mind lost in her touch. Something about her. Innocent, yet daring. Taking her shirt off, he tossed it aside, seeing her body close. Her breasts close; pushing aganist his chest. Shuddering he laid her down again and took her over. Letting her fly under his touch. He didn't know how long they had laid there, tangled, kissing...touching...tasting each other until she nodded at him.

He could tell she wanted him deeply and uncondtionally. Like a dream that could never happen, was happening now. Sliding his hands down her body, he grabbed her hips and with one thrust, he claimed her. Made her his own. Her gasp was all he needed. All he could ever want from her. They begin to move. A rhythmatic dance that he had never felt. Was it love? Destiny? Or just simply lust that drove him here. To have her and feel her underneath him. Was he mad...maybe he was? HE would have never done this to another.

Grasping his long hair, she heard him growl as she leaned up to kiss him. Kissing him was heaven to her. Something deep and primal emerged when he entered into her. Her moans and gasps, something she rarely heard herself make, astonished her and drove him mad. As they danced, she could feel his body tremble, yet in complete control. She couldn't take it anymore, as her body built her orgasm, she cried out a name. His name she believed. It could have been any name. It might not have been his name, but she did it.

Hearing her call his name, he lost it. The passion he was trying to hold. Too keep. Let her have the sweet memory of this one time was gone. Pinning her hands above her head, he drove into her. Harder with each thrust. The tightness that formed around him, the feel of this woman, it was all to much for him. As he thrust in her, he looked down upon her and exhiliration moved him. She was his. At least tonight. As his hands reached to hold her hips, she lifted them as he did. Letting him gain a better access.

He didn't know how long he could last with her enticing him. Teasing him into pure bliss. He felt her walls clench once more and he exploded inside her. On instinct, he bit down into her soft flesh. As blood touched his tongue, his moan reverberated throughout the room. Her cries of pleasure mingled with his. Performing a symphony of musical masterpiece. Forcing himself to pull back, he looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed. And she looked...happy? Blissful? Unaware of what he had done. His mind barely had time to register what had just happened when he started to panic.

The build up of want was sated and done for. Pulling himself off her, he back away from her. He couldn't imagine what was to happen now. Grabbing his clothes, he scrambled to put them on. She sat up and looked at him. In her eyes he saw confusion and anguish. She had wanted this as much as he did. Though she dreamed it every night. He could make her think this was all a dream. A dream within in a dream. And he...would be tormented every night. Every night of dreaming and wanting of her body once more. Just once more. And he would be in the same predicament he was in now. Maybe he shouldn't have followed her. Learned about her.

He sighed as she kept her eyes on him. Pray God, she didn't cry. Cry for his abandonment. Tonight was perfect. He couldn't change what's over, but only where he would go now. Where would he go? Would he abandon this angel or seek to find her embrace every night? The road...the split road. The one that lead him to her and the other alone. Alone each night.

As she stood to confront him. Maybe slap him. He was deserving of it. As her eyes searched his, his mind screamed at him. He could turn her, but he wouldn't taint her soul. Fleeing the room in an instant. Mere seconds before she could touch his body, he swiftly landed on the ground below him. Achingly and sore for a moment, he began to run. Run from his decision. Run from temptation.

Staggering as he left, she couldn't let the tears fall. Couldn't face the fact that he had left.

Disappeared.

Abandoned.

The words danced around her head. The images of their love-making seared into her memory. The feel and touch of his hands upon her body was burned forever. And when he bit her, she knew. Knew it was him. The one she read about. Dreamed about. Desired for. He had come and taken her. And she, stupidly, had willing given him what he craved. Sitting down on her bed, she closed her eyes. What a mistake that was! She could see him. Still taste him upon her lips. Sighing she flopped back into her bed and covered her body up. Should she lock her doors? Would he come back for her after he realized what he had done?

Closing her eyes, she fought the intoxicating images from forming and forced her mind to go to sleep. Forced herself to forget about him...as if he never existed and this was all a dream. A wonderful dream she didn't want to ever let go of.

Days flew by and he had locked himself away. Even to the point of not coming out of his room unless he needed to feed. Then he would make himself go back to his home instead of seeking her out. His heart ached for what he had done to her. Given her the world and then snatched it from her. He was a monster. Depraved. He wondered each night how she was coping. Maybe she had moved on. Moved on to someone who could be with her. Those close to him avoided him. Knowing something was tormenting him. Bothering him. They never asked and he never told them. Each knew the pain and torment of loving a human.

Finally one night of depravaty, he sought her out. His dreams, rather his nightmares had drove him to it. He needed to see her. Something was amiss. He didn't know what drove him back to her condo. Her insatiable self-being or maybe he was losing his mind. Standing before her condo, he looked up. The wind rustling his hair, the moon out. It was like the night they made he claimed her. How could he? Claim her? When he wasn't there to protect her from others.

Jumping, he landed smoothly onto the balcony. Drifting her room like smoke, he watched her. Watched her toss and turn in her bed. She hadn't changed. Not one thing about her changed since their night. Though she seemed to be less lost in her dreams. She knew his face and his touch. God! How he wanted her again. Leaning his body against the door frame, he knew it would be only a matter of time until she awoke from her dream-state and saw him standing before her. Like a God who must be worshipped by all those around him.

Minutes, maybe hours passed and still he stood there. Finally around three am, she awoke. Gradually, but with a quickness of someone being watched. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw him. Saw him standing in her room. Like he had that night...That night. She still had dreams about that night. His touch and the way he took her. Took everything she had ever known and rocked it. Turned it inside out. Her body still ached for him. In more ways than one.

Watching him she was afraid to move. Afraid he would run if she moved. The stare down was agonizing for her. She was sure it was for him too. He was beautiful in her mind, even what he had done to her. She didn't hate him. Standing up, she kept her eyes on him. He was a statue. Waiting and locked up for all eternity. Was it love that drove her to this? Was it love that he would show back up? She was glad she didn't lock her doors.

She stood! The urge to flee was immense but he held his ground. There was a reason why he kept coming back here. Maybe it was love. Passion and a needing understanding of connection. Connection to one that could understand him. Love him. As her hand touched his chest, his mind flew back to that night. How it started...was it going to be this way again? Hunger rumbled in his soul. His mind screamed for the taking. Why had he come here again? Looking down at her, his hand touching her neck, winding his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes and shuddered slightly.

Trembling, he pulled her close and his lips found her neck again. She gasped again as he kissed it. He felt his fangs lengthen at once. As he bit down, he held her steady. Drinking in her essence. Her small cries and moans only pushed him further. One taste...that's all they ever say. He didn't believe that. Pushing her aganist the wall, the beast in him wanted to drain her. He could go on like this forever. Though he couldn't feed on her every day. It would ruin her. Possibly kill her. Breaking from her neck, panting, he looked at her. Her heart beating rapidly, her eyes wide. Lust beginning to fill them.

He watched the red twin lines run down her neck. He could taste her blood on his lips, felt her fingers toy with his fangs. Making sure they were real. When she was satisfied with her observation, her eyes flicked back to his. Startling blue and crystal, they moved all over her face. Trying to read them as if her face were a tarot card. Trying to find the meaning behind it. As she shifted to adjust herself, he moaned. His arousal racing again. Aganist his will. Maybe it was his will. She wanted him in her again. Filling her up.

As if he could read her mind, she felt cool fingers slide between her thighs and to her centre. The tips sliding past the barriers and inside her. Arching her body closer to him, her head tried to fall back further into the wall. Closing her eyes, she sighed. She was hot...hotter than anything he had ever touched. As he slid another finger inside her, a twisted grin crossed his face. So responsive to something so simple. He wouldn't bring her to climax yet. Oh no, he was just getting started. He moaned as her walls clenched around him, urging him to continue. He had already claimed her as his. Why not full make her his?

She opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes had darkened. Filled with lust and maybe a hint of love? As his fingers continued to play, she wanted to climax so badly, she ached. It was like an unavoidable pain, but something she wanted. Getting closer to her peak, he stopped his ministrations. Groaning, she looked at him. Hating this teasing. Her body begging...but not getting the release it needed. Grabbing the back of his head, she roughly pulled him to her. Kissing him hard. Feeling his fangs cut into her lip, she ignored the sharp pain and kissed him.

He was enjoying this. This slow torture of her body. She was practically begging for her release and, he, wasn't going to give in just yet. Kissing her mouth, he fumbled with his pants. As he managed to release himself from their constrained prison, he thrust quickly in her. He felt her orgasm hit her as soon as he sank into her. He didn't care. He wanted her again and again. As many times as they could go. Thrusting hard into her, her legs wrapped securely around his waist. This was unbridled. Passion with no limits. Thankfully there was a wall behind her or she would have fallen.

The first time was sweet and unyielding, this time it was quick and demanding. Pushing her hands above her head, he buried his head in her neck. Sweat slowly pouring down his back. It felt like hours, but it was minutes before she climaxed again. Calling his name again, her eyes closed. She wasn't sure if she could keep going. Her body trembled from her orgasm. He kept thrusting in her. Each time harder and less finesse. She didn't care. She could do this every night and never bore of it. Wriggling one of her hands free, she pulled his head from her neck and kissed him again.

He growled at this interruption and knew he would have to have his climax soon. Her small frame wouldn't be able to take much more of this. As her walls clenched tightly, almost holding him still inside her, he knew he wouldn't last too much longer. Slowing down his thrusts, he looked at her and saw her panting heavily. Each long stroke, driving her further into being his. Her body trembled against his. His own betraying him. He watched as she closed her eyes, her lips mouthing words. Words she couldn't bear to say out loud.

Arching her back, she climaxed a third time that night. It amazed even her. As she rode the waves her own pleasure, he begin thrusting harder into her. Almost painfully. Her body screaming as well as her soul. Feeling him explode inside her, he growled loudly. She knew, in an instant, she was to be his forever. Clutching the side of the door, he held still. His own roller coaster taking him for a ride. Something in him changed. He had had many women in his three hundred years but never like this. Never so wanton.

Looking in her eyes, he saw a plead dance across them. She was begging him to do something. Say something... He couldn't speak. Taking a breath, he knew what she wanted. She wanted to be his. Not just in bed, but in life. Maybe he had finally found his anchor. The one that would keep him at bay and not let his inner demons take flight. Still inside her, he sunk his fangs in her neck once more. Tasting her blood once more, he begin to feed from her. Taking her all in him.

Carrying her to the bed, he kept feeding from her. Until she lay limp in his arms. Slashing his wrists, he held them over her lips to feed from. As her lips part and begin to move, his blood flows into her mouth. Giving her a new life. When he pulled from her, he held her fragile body close as it started to die. To die, then to be re-born. The pain would only last so long. Minutes passed and he waited for her. Counting the ticks on the clock, he watched her change before him. She was perfect in his eyes, but his blood would change her.

As her eyes fluttered open, he watched her take in the world. It was new yet the same. She was his. All his and he wasn't going to give her up. Never let her leave his side ever again. He was a fool to believe he could be away from her forever. To hide his feelings. To hurt her and take all his gift from her. Smirking, he held his hand for her. As she took it, he led her to the balcony and held her close to him. Confession...was a difficult thing to do. He's confession. Love. Falling in love and running from it. Coming back to it and taking it. Keeping it.

Never would he lie to himself.

Never would he deny himself the simplest pleasure to love.

She was his...His angel.

His confession.