At First Sight Ch. 02

Ethan's brows furrowed and he, too, looked at Emma. He saw how terrified she was, and rushed to comfort her. "Darling, I know how scared you must be," he said, brushing hair from Emma's eyes. "But, please, tell this demon scum that you want him to go so that the two of us can mate, and I can bring you home. You want to go home, don't you?"

"Home?" Emma asked faintly, imagining in her shock the little apartment in Knoxville, and Stanley the cat, who was probably wondering where she was. She nodded. Goliath's heart sank for the second time.

"Yes, darling, you want to go home to the Heavens, don't you?" Ethan cooed, smoothing her hair.

Emma frowned. "No, I want to go home to...my home." Her voice became more firm. "I want Goliath to take me home." She walked over to the demon and reached to place her arms around his neck again. She was too short, however, and he had to pick her up. He kissed her forehead and whispered to her, "Everything will be alright, Emma. We're going home."

Ethan stared after her, dumbfounded. "You...You want him? Do you even know anything about him? He is a killer, a mindless monstrosity. Please, think this over, Emma. Spend a week with him and then you can tell me whether I must completely lose hope or not. I won't give up on you that easily, but I can't keep you hostage." Through all of this, Emma just stared. He walked over to where the demon held her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be waiting for you to summon me, my love. I don't ever want anyone but you." With that, he disappeared.

Goliath didn't know what to say. The angel must truly have feelings for her, but that was no excuse to steal her from him. Emma had made her decision. She wanted him. She had willingly come to him and reached those beautiful arms out to him. "Let's go home, Emma." He willed them to her apartment, where he sat her down in the living room, onto the couch that she had been taken from.

She got up, walked into her bedroom, and closed the door.

Goliath sighed, and sat down on the couch. She was right to be angry with him. He'd allowed her to be taken by some psychotic angel, and now he didn't even know what to say to comfort her. He sat there for a few minutes, watching Stanley rub against his legs, until he remembered that he was covered in blood. He went to the bathroom and washed his face, then took off his shirt and put it into the basket that Emma had told him held the laundry. As he dried his face in front of the sink, he heard Emma call out to him. "Goliath? Where are you?" Her voice was slightly panicked.

Goliath went out into the hallway and spotted Emma standing in the living room, holding Stanley. She was dressed in one of the tee shirts she had bought him—it hung off one shoulder, it was so oversized—and a pair of white cotton panties. That was it. No bra. No pants—he could see everything from her silky thighs down her pretty, sleek legs to the tips of her sparkly little toes. Her hair was rumpled and her makeup was gone. Before he could stop himself, he was walking toward her, determined to kiss that sweet, full mouth.

Emma looked up from scratching behind Stanley's ears at the sound of movement down the hall and was relieved to see Goliath's calm face looking back at her. Then she noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt. She could see every thickly corded muscle in his chest and arms, and it made her stomach tighten and heat pool between her legs. The man didn't just have a six-pack—he had eight. He had on the jeans she'd bought him, and they hung low on his hips. As he got closer, she could also see the scars that marred his chest. Thick, light-colored welts all over him, as if he'd been beaten with a whip—a cat-of-nine-tails from the looks of it. Some of them reached around his shoulders to his back.

"My God, Goliath, what happened to you? To your chest and back?" She whispered, letting Stanley hop to the floor and run off in search of food. She reached up to touch his chest, and when she ran her fingertips along his scars, he stilled her hand.

"It was a long time ago." Goliath was hesitant, but he wanted Emma to know how important she was to him. How he loved her. He gently kissed each of her fingertips, slowly, one by one.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, shaking from the sensations he was causing in her. This was nothing like being with Ethan. This was more than The Pull. While it was there, there was also the way he looked into her eyes. The way he made her feel. He cared about her. She knew it. And, she realized, she cared about him as well.

"Not anymore. Are you hurt?" Although the fact that she was concerned touched him deeply, Goliath didn't want to think about his scars and ran his gaze over her instead. And noticed that, this close, he could see through the thin, white material of the shirt to her breasts. Sweet, perfect globes with taut pink nipples. Begging to be touched.

Emma shook her head and leaned into him. "I'm fine. Let's go to sleep, okay?"

Goliath scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back and placing her snugly into her giant canopy bed. As much as he wanted to do other things—so many other things—he kissed her forehead and made to leave. "Aren't you staying? Please, stay," Emma's voice broke on the last word, and then she was crying and Goliath was beside her, holding her to his chest, stroking her hair.

Emma felt so protected, lying in Goliath's arms. She'd never felt like this before, not with anyone. Looking up, she saw that he was staring at her in his quiet way, a gentle look on his face.

He reached down and wiped away her tears. "It's alright," he said in his gruff voice. "I'm here now, and I won't let anyone take you ever again."

Emma sighed, settled her arm around him, and felt something in his pocket. It felt like a book. "What is that?" she asked in surprise.

"It's nothing," he said hurriedly, but she had already taken it out of his pocket.

"Shakespeare's Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet," she read aloud in awe. "Have you read this?" She looked up at him and he looked sheepish, almost ashamed.

"Many times," he said with a sigh. "It's the only thing I've ever had to read."

Emma smiled. He liked classic literature. How...unexpected. "Which one is your favorite?"

Goliath thought about it. He liked the romance of Romeo and Juliet, but he truly loved Prince Hamlet's story. It had action, mystery, and a hint of romance, although it was very tragic. He simply couldn't bring himself to like either Romeo or Juliet in the former play. "Hamlet," he said. "I like the prince's story."

"I've always liked Romeo and Juliet, myself," Emma said. "Why isn't it your favorite?"

"Romeo had false emotions," Goliath said simply.

Emma was surprised by his assessment. "What? Why would you say that? He died for his love!"

Goliath waved her claims away with a huge hand. "He was foolish. He was promised to another woman in the beginning of the play, one he supposedly loved as well. I believe he was far too young to know love, and was therefore a victim of his own youthful folly."

Emma didn't know what to say to that. It was the most she had heard Goliath say since they had met, a full three sentences. "I hadn't thought of that," was all she could think to say.

Goliath smiled. "Don't let my cynical views ruin your love story, Emma."

"You haven't ruined it. I just see it from a different perspective now." Emma smiled back, and Goliath was struck by her beauty. She was everything he could have dreamed of if he'd been asked to imagine his perfect mate, and more. She hadn't ridiculed him for reading his plays. That meant more to him than she would ever know.

"You are beautiful. I don't deserve you." Goliath put his hand on her face and leaned down to kiss her. He hovered above her lips for a moment. "May I kiss you?"

Emma struggled to breathe. How could he make her so hot just by looking at her? She nodded, never taking her eyes off his. As he bent to kiss her, she inhaled his scent. He smelled like a campfire, smoke and pine. Like home. His lips brushed hers, lightly, gently, as if he were afraid of really kissing her. She wasn't having any of that, however, and met him halfway, pushing their mouths together. His lips were soft and hard at the same time, his warm breath on her mouth as they kissed.

Moaning, she parted her lips and his tongue swept inside, burning her, possessing her. Her stomach tightened with need, and she ran her fingers through his short, dark hair.

Goliath couldn't believe how she was responding to him. He was thrilled to his bones that she was kissing him back, but when she moaned, he lost all control. He thrust his tongue inside her sweet mouth, taking her and tasting her. He ran his hands up over her backside—clad only in those thin, white cotton panties, dear God—and up to her waist as he lifted her onto his lap. They sat up in the bed; he leaned against the headboard and draped her legs around his waist. She nibbled his bottom lip and a strangled moan escaped him. The sheer pleasure of having her in his lap, nearly naked, her sweet hips grinding into his erection was almost too much for him.

"Oh, Emma, I don't want to hurt you," he whispered against her mouth. She merely tugged on his hair, causing him to moan a second time.
Goliath kissed his way down Emma's soft, tender throat to her collarbone, which he nipped and licked tentatively until he worked up the nerve to reach underneath her shirt to cup her breast. When he ran his callused thumb over her hardened nipple, she moaned—a sweet, delicate sound that had Goliath ready to fall at her feet in reverence. Please, sweet Emma, he thought, I want to please you.

She ran her hands over his chest, kissing his neck. When she bit his earlobe, he hissed and pushed her back onto the bed. "I like that," he said gruffly.

Emma giggled. "Then, why did you stop me?"

Goliath smiled at her, so grateful that he had a mate like Emma. "Because I have plans for you, little Emma." She gasped as he literally ripped the shirt off her and stared at her, lying there looking up at him. Her breasts were bared, the pink nipples taut and ready for his attention. Her tummy was flat, but not too flat—she had such perfect curves, and she was soft all over. Her silky thighs were slightly tanned, which was offset by the white of her cotton panties. He could see already that she was wet for him. "Magnificent," he whispered.

Emma was struck by the way Goliath looked at her. Hungry, like he couldn't wait to devour her. She wanted him to. And then, she wanted to devour him. Every muscled inch of him. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, working the other with his fingers, his other hand playing with the waistband of her panties. She moaned at the feeling, and he nuzzled her breast, whispering things in a language she couldn't understand. "Goliath," she breathed, "don't stop."

He glanced up at her and saw the passion in her eyes. "I won't ever stop, sweetheart," he said, then realized he was speaking Daemonaak, the language of the Horde. He repeated it in English. Seeing her smile, he kissed his way down her belly to her panties, which he also ripped from her body. He parted her silky thighs, kissing them, and then kissed the part of her he'd been craving. "Goliath!" she all but screeched. "What are you doing?!?"

Goliath frowned up at her. "I'm pleasing my mate, Emma. Have you never...?" She shook her head, and Goliath couldn't help but smile again. "Nothing? With no one?" She shook her head again, looking embarrassed. He climbed up her body, loving his woman even more than he had before. "Emma. I won't hurt you, but, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Tell me," he said. "Tell me if it's alright."

Emma looked into his eyes and saw some emotion shining there...love? Surely not. But, it was obvious that he cared for her. And, she wanted him so badly. Her mind and heart raced with her desire for him. "It's alright," she said, caressing his face. He nuzzled her hand for a moment, and then left her to kneel between her thighs again. She parted for him, and he gently licked her core, drawing lazy circles with his tongue. "Goliath," she whispered again, and he loved it. Loved the sound of his name on her lips. A name she'd given to him. He picked up his pace when she started to move her hips to meet his tongue, lapping at the little bud at her center. She cried out, her breath catching, and he felt her body tense. "Goliath! I'm..." she moaned into a pillow as her world flew apart beneath his ministrations.

As she settled, Goliath held her in his arms, rocking her gently. "Emma, you look so beautiful when you...when you come." He said softly, kissing her temple. "I love you." He watched as Emma's big, green eyes looked back at him. He wanted her to feel the same way.

"Goliath..." Emma started. But, he didn't want to hear her rejection. He wanted to pretend. Pretend that he was noble and good like the angel. That Emma would never be embarrassed by his bumbling, stupid ways. That he was handsome and desirable to her.

"No...it's alright. Sleep, baby. I'll be right here."

Emma sighed, too sleepy now to argue with him. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep in the arms of her demon protector. Goliath's eyes were sad as he watched her breathing become even, and only then did he allow the single tear to fall.