Jacob's Beloved

The hollow autumn moon lingered low on the watery horizon as beautiful, white crested waves crashed against the sandy shoreline in reckless abandon; the chilled evening air was heavily permeated with a stringent salty stench that easily carried far inland on the brisk breezes. Stray seaweed strands were strode about the beach in random disarray. Aged driftwood debris floated lazily in the steadily swelling surf. A thin, vapory mist saturated the already winter like winds, adding a damp ambiance to the night as the rising ocean roared and hissed a classic melody while, far in the distance, seagulls called out to one another in a disastrous and hopelessly off key attempt at a serenade.

There was a tranquil feel to the night, a cool calm that whispered gentle accolades as bright moonbeams danced over the dark ocean like mischievous pixies; sights and sounds came effortlessly together to seamlessly fashion a most perfect panorama. Nature at its best. Pure. Tender. Inviting. The warm, ashen glow illuminated the night with an almost serene radiance, a subdued brilliance that was far less invasive than the blazing sunlight…the sweet moon kiss gave a timed soul the opportunity to escape into lingering shadows, should critical and prying eyes venture too close. Become too obtrusive. Too curious, or linger, just a moment too long…it was rare that she allowed anyone close enough to see her very clearly, but when it did happen, she tended to bolt as fast and as far as she could, reminding me of a skittish colt who had far too often tasted the repeated stroke of a cruel whip against tender flesh…she was, for all the world, so similar to a creature who had encounter a cold force determined to break her will, her spirit, and at times, it seemed as if that horrible force had indeed managed to shatter her essence, leaving her broken and afraid, certain it was now her lot in life to avoid the actual act of living.

For months I had watched her from a distance, never alerting her to my presence in her life, but always close to her, as often as I could be; from the moment the sun set until it rose again, I found myself unable to break away, to leave her…she drew me to her as no one else ever had in all my nearly seven hundred years and I knew early on I was obsessed.

In telling this story, I suppose the first thing I should do is explain who and what I am; my name is Jacob Coleman and I am a nearly seven hundred year old vampire…I am not the eldest of my kind, but I have lived a long existence, mostly a solitary one and I have been happy with that. Even as a human, I had never felt closely connected to anyone. I never needed another. Never loved anyone with such desperation I felt as if my mind might leave me, if I did not have them in my world…yet in less than a moment, my desire for a continued quite and solitary existence faded and I knew every second I had lived, up until that moment, was leading me to this girl…this beautiful but frightened woman I saw as an almost angelic vision.

The first time I saw her, she was walking on the beach, clearly lost deep in her thoughts as she stared out at the ocean, her cascading chocolate curls swaying in the gentle breeze. She exuded elegance. Beauty. I was certain she was perfection in the flesh…the moonlight made her seem surreal with her ivory flesh framing a delicately featured face dominated by sensual lips and wide, darkly lashed lilac eyes.

At the time, as I enjoyed my own stroll along the shoreline, I was in my usual indiscernible form, which allowed me to watch her without alerting her to my presence…I simply stood and drank in the sight she made as cutoff shorts revealed long legs while her plain cotton shirt hugged her full breast, cropped just enough to offer a peak at her flat but feminine belly. The little sapphire ring, that graced her belly button. I smiled to myself. I smiled at my reaction to her, I smiled because I knew I would not rest until I knew her…until I knew her name, knew where she had come from…I was certain, after all, that I had never seen her before, so I suspected that she was new to the island.

As she moved closer, allowing me a better view, I became even more enthralled, more aroused…I wanted to take her into my arms in that moment, to feel her full breast crushed against my chest as I lowered us both to the ground; I was consumed with the need to take her, to taste her lips…I had to resist that urge with every ounce of strength I possessed as she finally paused about five feet from me.

She had the most wonderful scent, a faint vanilla aroma that made me ache inside…an ache that thundered into a dull pain as I full sensed the deep hurt radiating from her in the instant before she brushed a cloud of curls behind her left ear, allowing me to see, for the first time, a thin but ridged pink scar that ran a decided course from the tip of her temple to the bottom of her jaw line, just below her full lips.

Silently, I moved closer to her, overcome with more emotions than I had the ability to fully process as I looked at her…felt her…I sensed her pain so very strongly it seemed to pull me under, pull me into the suffering she struggled hard to hide from the world. From herself. I wanted to take that suffering from her, to make it right…I wanted to heal her inner wounds more than I had ever wanted anything, but for the first time in my existence, I felt utterly powerless and I very quickly discovered that was a feeling I hated with a passion, even as I realized I had to learn what I could, by fair means or what some would consider foul.

One of the powers that I possess, but seldom use, is the power to tap into the mind of a mortal, allowing myself the opportunity to shift through memories and thoughts…it was an invasion I tended to avoid, but in that moment, I was just desperate enough to cast my usual hesitations aside; I was driven by desire to understand this girl who had managed to arouse feelings inside me I hadn’t know I had the means to feel, until she appeared so beautifully in my path and as I stood there with her, as she stared at the ocean with tears shimmering in her eyes, her mental guarded lowered, I found it easy to slip deeply into her mind in my quest for information.

I discovered first that her name was Danica Dawson and she was twenty six, seven years younger than I had been, at the time I left the mortal life behind for something more…she had come to the island from New York, to rent one of the older house further down the shore, having chosen the location for the very secure privacy and solitude it offered. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to be cut off from the rest of the world, the one she had once known as well as the one that took place all around her, on the island…I understood that need, the need to be left alone, but it was the reasons behind her need I found most heart wrenching as I slipped a little deeper into thoughts, wishing I could wrap my arms around her and hold her against me as she allowed her tears to finally flow freely in an effort to excavate the pain once and for all.

Before I even learned every fact regarding her life, I knew I would do any and everything for her; I felt instantly connected to this girl and as much as it surprised me, I didn’t mind…wanting her as I did felt somehow right as I slowly shifted through her memories for information that informed me she had no real family. Her mother and father were dead. A car accident had killed both in an instant, when Danica was only seventeen and shortly after, she graduated high school and moved from her small hometown in New Mexico to New York where she worked as a waitress part time while focusing most of her energy on fulfilling her dream to become a model.

It seemed, she found the success she wanted, she became popular in the field and for four years, she was at the top…she held endless memories and thoughts centering around the countless assignments she had landed, the fame she had discovered; for a time, she had all she had ever wanted, leading up to her encounter with a man named Chet Lewis, a photographer who developed an unhealthy obsession with her.

He began with calling her at all hours, asking her to go out with him, but when she refused, he took to following her…she got a court order meant to try and keep him at bay, but he had no fear, regarding trouble with the law, a fact he coldly taunted her with when he trapped her in the parking garage next to the building that housed her apartment.

The minute she saw Lewis, she panicked, she tried to tell him to leave her alone…he screamed back at her before slapping her hard across the face, so hard she fell to the ground just as a knife flashed through the air…her last clear thought was crying out for help. For mercy. There was pain, followed by a cold darkness that pulled her deeply under.

When she awoke, she was in the hospital, lost in a drug induced haze that lingered for nearly a week, before her agent set at her bedside and told her what had happened; he filled in the blanks her memory had created, and Danica could only cry in disbelief as he told her that she had been stabbed twice in the stomach, once in the chest, and as a final act of violence, Chet had slashed her across the face with his knife before stabbing himself in the chest, right in the heart.

Chet had died, on the scene, just as Danica nearly had. It was a miracle that she lived…that was the good news…she would recover completely, from most of her wounds…yet his eyes had told her that was not the case and when she pushed, he finally admitted to her that the doctors said surgery could be done, on her face, but they saw little hope that all the damage could be really, completely reversed. She would have a scar. It couldn’t be helped. It was sad and unfair and harsh, but it was a reality she had to accept, just as she had to find the means to accept that the life she had known had ended…I could feel her pain and horror and the loneliness that consumed her following what her agent explained to her, feeling awkward himself, as he had not been certain what to say to comfort her.

His inability to offer her compassion was a condition shared by most of her so called friends in the weeks and months that followed; she was alone most of the time, so much so she came to like the solitude as her body very slowly healed itself…she underwent surgery to repair the damage to her face, but as she had been warned, the improvement wasn’t total and from there, both her mental and emotional state went downhill.

She cut herself off from her friends, which came as a relief to them, and after a time, she decided to leave the city completely, deciding a few months on an island recommended by a friend was just what she needed…she was, I knew, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself, looking for a place to hide, and as selfish as it might I seemed, I was glad she had chosen to do as much, for it had placed her in my path.

That first night, when she returned home, I followed her, telling myself I wanted to make certain she was safe, but in simple truth, I wanted to be near her for a while longer. For as long as possible. I wanted to touch her. I wanted, so much, to hear her voice…I transported myself into her room as she went into her restroom, to change into black satin pajamas that looked glorious against her ivory skin as she finally crawled into bed, wrapping herself firmly under her covers while I stood and watched.

I told myself I would stay only until she fell asleep, but I found myself still lingering as her breathing evened off…several hours passed while I watched, admiring the gentle beauty she made, curled comfortably on her side with her dark hair spilling over her pillow. I eased closer to her bed. I wanted very much to imprint her image into my mind, to carry with me, into my own sleep, when the rising sun forced me to leave her for a time, though I already knew I would return…I smiled to myself at the thought as I watched a sudden frown cross her sleeping features…a muffled whimper escaped her and without hesitation, I felt myself slip into her mind once more.

As I had suspected the instant she cried out, I found she was dreaming; she was dreaming about running along the beach with Chet Lewis chasing close behind her, calling out that he would kill her…she began to thrash about, in the bed as I softly said her name, calling to her in her sleep, whispering to her that she was safe. He was not there. He never would be. I pushed the horrible, frightening image from her mind as she slowly calmed, responding to the gentle assurance I offered her throughout the remainder of the night, until I knew the sun would soon rise…I leaned close and brushed a kiss over her lips, lingering for a moment as I promised to return to her as soon as possible.

The ritual continued steadily for nearly four mouths; as soon as the sun set I would leave the island to feed, always returning in time to go to her, to be as close to her as possible while she walked on the beach…set in her living room reading…I took great pleasure in just watching her go about the most simple task while waiting eagerly for the chance to really approach her.

I wasn’t certain how that would happen, how I could make myself and my intent known to her, without her running in fear, it was a question I found I couldn’t help but ponder as I followed her to her room one night, where she fell asleep easily. She always did. It was after she had been sleeping for an hour or so that the dreams came…I stood near her bed, ready to chase them away, as I had countless nights in the months since I had first encounter her, but on that night, the dream was different…I could sense what she needed was more than a whispered assurance; it was obvious to me that Danica craved contact in the physical sense…she wanted to be touched and I ached desperately to be the one to touch her as I set down on her bed, knowing she would believe me to be just a dream. A mental image. And, for the moment, that was fine, it was a start, at least, one I was willing to embrace as I said her name gently, loving the sound as her eyes fluttered twice before focusing clearly on me, though an understandable confusion still lingered there as she pushed herself up, allowing the sheet to fall from her.

"Don’t be afraid, Danica." I cupped her cheek in my hand. "I want you to know you are safe…I would never hurt you…" Her skin was like satin, I loved the feel, the way she looked at me as I smiled in an effort to assure her she was indeed safe with me as she lifted her own hand so she could place it gently on my chest…her fingers tangled in the silk folds of my shirt as the night around us stood quite and still and calm.

Her tangled curls fell around her shoulders in beautiful cascade and her wide eyes reached into mine as I whispered her name once more; I could feel her confusion warring with her longing to just throw aside the questions in her mind and embrace what was before her…I skimmed my hand from her cheek to the back of her neck and with a final promise that she had nothing to fear from me or from herself, I gently leaned into her, covering her mouth with mine.

She had soft, full lips that easily yielded to my teasing touch as a small but aroused gasp escaped her…I felt the dam holding back her emotions and her needs shatter, freeing the longings and desire; she eased herself closer to me, one hand resting on my shoulder while the other moved to tangle into my hair with clinging desperation that told me not to leave her…leaving her was the one thing I never wanted to do as her glorious lips parted and I delved my tongue into her mouth.

She tasted like the hot chocolate she had drank before going to bed, a flavor that I savored as I wrapped my tongue around hers in an ageless dance, tugging teasingly as I ran my hands down her arms…my cock felt ready to burst from my pants, leaving me more aroused than I had ever been in my life as she eased back and looked at me, touching my face as she smiled and shook her head slowly, looking so beautiful it astounded me.

"I know you can’t be real." Her voice was soft. "But I don’t care…I think you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen…your eyes are so blue they are almost sliver…" She seemed to be talking to herself, in her mind, she was as I smiled at her, moving my hand to cup her face again.

"You are the beautiful one, my love." I kissed her eyes. "I want so much, to make love to you, Danica."

"What is your name…" Her smile lingered.

"Jacob."

"Jacob." My name coming from her was hypnotic. "I like that." I nearly came in that moment, as her hands moved to quickly work the buttons on my shirt, freeing me from the garment with ease…I kept my eyes focused on her as she pushed the shirt from my shoulders before lifting her own pajama top over her head so she could toss it to the floor while I set in a lustful stupor, unable to fully believe that her full breast were exposed to me at last.

She was glorious…perfection…her breast were a fine ivory capped with dark pink nipples that stood erect as I moved to cup a heavy mound in each hand, drawing a sigh from her that spurred my desire. Made me want her more than I had thought it possible to want anyone…she was a light that drew me close as I pinched each nipple between my thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently…pulling at the tender flesh until she cried out even louder than before with her head thrown back, allowing me access to her neck that I explored with warm, wet kisses.

Her eager, uninhibited reactions to my touch were intoxicating, I felt like I was making love for the first time ever…I was lightheaded and overwhelmed with need as I kissed my way down her neck, licking her flesh, down over her finely sculpted collarbone; I whispered gentle, praising words to her as I drank in her taste…her scent…I told her she was beautiful in all ways and I prayed she believed it as her hands again tangled in my golden blond hair, keeping me anchored against her as she laid back on the bed.

Her head rested against her high pillow stake, her skin was flushed to a beautiful pink…her lips were swollen from the force of the kisses we had shared as I eased back to look down at her, wanting to forever recall how she looked, ivory stretched out against black satin sheets as she smiled, her eyes glazed with need as I leaned down to kiss her.

She accepted me with ease, opening her arms…her hand flexed against my back as her breast crushed against my chest…it was an amazing feeling as she eagerly merged her mouth to mine again and again; her tongue outlined my lips teasingly, she held northing back, still believing that I was just a figment her mind had conjured. I was just a dream. To her. She was the same for me in a thousand ways…only she was my most precious dream come true and I fully intended to be the same for her, when the time was right…but for that moment in time, I was willing to savor, to take and give all I could, saving the rest to worry about later.

Breaking away from her mouth, I trailed my lips over her face, turning her head so I could lavish kisses over the scar she hated…I heard her sharp intake of breath, followed by an instinctive need to turn away, to shield herself, but I very firmly told her no. Never. I told her to never hide herself from me for any reason as I followed the order with a whispered assurance that she was and forever would be the most beautiful woman I had ever known.

Slowly, still praising her body, adoring the little gasp that escaped her, I kissed my way down her neck, licking my tongue over the pulse that pounded there, hard and steady, testament to the passion, and life that flowed wonderfully through her…I was filled with renewed hunger, nearly overcome with the desire to make her completely mine. Forever. For eternity. But I resisted, knowing that would come in time…soon…I made that promise to myself as I trailed my lips to her right breast where I easily sucked her pretty pink nipple deep into my mouth so I could suckle it with vigor; I flicked my rough tongue over the nub with quick strokes before nipping it with my teeth to create a delightful little sting that I then licked away as she continued to wither beneath me, her beautiful back arched, her hands tangled in my hair.