Page 4 of Etched In Stone (The Stone Saga #3.5)
Chapter Four
Krystina
Alexander led me through the entrance and into a space that defied every expectation I’d had.
The villa’s open-air design was breathtaking, blurring the lines between the lavish comforts within and the wild, untamed beauty of the island beyond.
Floor-to-ceiling openings invited the outside in, while gossamer curtains danced in the breeze that seemed to flow through every room.
Sunlight streamed through the generous spaces, dancing across smooth stone floors and casting golden patterns on the walls.
Delicate orchids perched like precious jewels in crystal vases, their exotic beauty adding splashes of color.
“Are you hungry?” Alexander asked, leading me through what appeared to be a living area toward the kitchen. “Marcus mentioned they’d prepared some things for us.”
As if summoned by his words, my stomach chose that moment to growl audibly, reminding me that the excitement of our departure and the flight had left little time for proper meals.
“Starving, actually,” I admitted with a laugh as I followed Alexander into a kitchen with gleaming marble countertops. Laid out before us was an elaborate spread—a feast for the senses that was almost too beautiful to disturb.
Fresh tropical fruits were artfully arranged on hand-crafted pottery. There were local specialties I couldn’t immediately identify but that smelled heavenly. And, yes—a selection of Italian pastries that made my mouth water just looking at them.
Alexander selected a piece of mango and offered it to me. The fruit was impossibly sweet, bursting with flavor. Juice ran down my chin despite my best efforts, and Alexander was there immediately with a napkin, his touch gentle as he cleaned my face.
But the gesture was anything but innocent.
His thumb lingered at the corner of my mouth, his eyes darkening as he watched me with an intensity that made my breathing shallow.
“Later,” he murmured, his voice rough with promise. “First, let’s get the layout for the rest of the villa. Make no mistake, before we leave, I’ll have taken you in every room of this place.”
My stomach did a little flip, anxious to get to that part of our honeymoon, as he led me deeper into the intimate haven that was designed for seclusion and romance.
Every detail spoke of careful planning, of someone who understood that luxury wasn’t just about expensive things, but about creating experiences, moments, and memories.
It was furnished with plush seating that beckoned invitingly, while French doors opened onto terraces that seemed to float among the treetops, offering glimpses of the ocean beyond.
The lavishness around me was almost overwhelming, the kind of luxury I had only dreamed of before Alexander swept into my life and turned everything upside down.
One would think I’d be used to it by now, after months of being part of his world, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever become completely accustomed to this level of lavishness. There was a part of me that still felt like a fraud—like someone playing dress-up in a life that belonged to someone else.
Low from hidden speakers throughout the villa, soft island music drifted through the air—a sultry blend of steel drums, distant congas, and a slow rhythm guitar that pulsed like a heartbeat.
The melody was sensual and hypnotic, echoing the sounds of a tropical night, as if the ocean itself had set the rhythm for desire.
When we reached the primary bedroom, I couldn’t hold back my gasp of disbelief.
The room was a fantasy made apparent. A massive canopy bed dominated the space, its frame crafted from what looked like driftwood polished to a soft gleam.
Silk sheets in shades of cream and gold covered the king-sized mattress, whispering promises of the nights to come.
Gossamer curtains surrounded the bed like a cloud, creating an intimate sanctuary within the larger room.
The entire far wall was open to a private terrace that overlooked the ocean, where I could see an infinity pool that seemed to blend seamlessly with the horizon beyond.
“Wow… It’s hard to believe this place it real.”
“It’s as real as it gets, angel,” Alexander said, moving to stand behind me, his hands settling on my hips. “I wanted only the best for our honeymoon. You deserve nothing less.”
Every detail of this place spoke of Alexander’s thoughtful planning, his ability to anticipate needs I didn’t even know I had. He knew how to touch my soul without saying a word, enveloping me in a love so profound that it seemed to resonate in the very air I breathed.
My throat tightened with emotion as I considered everything that had brought us to this moment.
The past eight months had been a whirlwind—so much had happened during our intense, passionate courtship—if one would call it that.
No one would ever consider Alexander and I conventional.
There was the kidnapping that had left me hospitalized for weeks, and the trauma that had forced us both to confront our deepest fears.
But the worst were the terrible secrets that had emerged about Alexander’s family, decades-old lies that had shattered everything he thought he knew about his past.
We’d been tested in ways that might have destroyed other couples, but somehow, we’d emerged stronger and more committed—more certain that what we had was worth fighting for.
The enormity of finally being here, finally being free to focus on just us without the weight of external demands, caused tears to sting the backs of my eyes.
I shook my head, trying to organize my thoughts.
“No, Alex,” I said, turning to face him.
“This isn’t just for me. After everything we’ve been through—the lies, the deception, the circumstances that threatened to tear us apart—now there are no more distractions.
No more secrets to hold us back. Now is finally our time, and our time alone.
” I reached up to cup his face, feeling the slight roughness of stubble beneath my palms. “We deserve this. We’ve earned it. ”
“Krystina,” Alexander said softly, his voice carrying a tenderness that never failed to undo me.
I turned to face him fully, my heart so full of love it felt like it might overflow.
He placed his hands on either side of my neck, his touch both an anchor and a promise.
Those hands—such a perfect contrast of strength and tenderness—had guided me through my darkest moments and lifted me to heights I’d never imagined possible.
“Alex,” I responded, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you more than you can possibly know,” he said, his voice a tender command that danced along my nerves and sent shivers cascading down my spine. “You are mine, and I am yours. Completely. Irrevocably.”
His eyes, those pools of sapphire that I loved so much, held mine with a gaze so intense it seemed to peel back the layers of my soul, leaving me bare and wanting and completely his.
“Forever,” I managed to say, though my voice was barely above a sigh, betraying the tremor of anticipation that had seized every nerve in my body.
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, predatory and possessive and entirely Alexander.
With deliberate slowness, he reached around to find the zipper of my dress, his knuckles brushing against my spine as he located the delicate tab.
The metallic whisper of parting fabric was the sweetest symphony to my ears, each tooth of the zipper releasing its hold with a sound that seemed to echo in the charged air between us.
His fingers brushed against my newly exposed skin with a slow deliberation that bordered on exquisite torture, trailing fire in their wake as the dress loosened around me.
I closed my eyes, surrendering completely to the meticulous undressing that was as much an exploration as it was a tease.
Every touch was a word in the private language our bodies had developed, every caress a promise of the ecstasy I knew he would soon deliver.
A shiver, deep and uncontrollable, rippled down my spine, coiling at the base like a serpent preparing to strike. My skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive.
My dress fell away, waterfalling at my feet in a pool of seafoam. I stood before my husband in only the delicate lace of my bra and panties—pieces I’d chosen specifically for this moment, knowing he would appreciate the way the ivory complemented my skin.
Alexander’s sapphire eyes, always so commanding and controlled, now smoldered with a hunger.
They sent waves of liquid heat crashing through me.
He looked at me not as a man simply appreciating his wife’s body, but as an artist beholding a masterpiece, every curve and contour something to be adored and worshipped and claimed.
“Angel,” he murmured, and the nickname sounded more like a sacred incantation falling from his lips. The air between us crackled with an electricity that drew us together with the inexorable pull of two opposing forces destined to become one.
Alexander moved closer, closing the small distance between us until his hard body was pressed against mine.
The contrast was intoxicating—his fully clothed form against my near-nakedness.
He cupped my face in his hands with a tenderness that contradicted his usual dominance, his thumb brushing across my cheek in a featherlight touch that somehow spoke louder than words.
It was a gesture of reverence, a silent vow that despite the intensity of our passion, despite the fire that burned between us, he would always handle me with care.
In that intimate embrace, with his hands framing my face and his body radiating heat against mine, the world outside our villa faded into complete insignificance. There was only him and me, only this moment, only the love that burned between us bright enough to eclipse everything else.
“Take me, Alex,” I whispered, the words torn from somewhere deep in my soul. “Please.”
The predatory gleam in his sapphire eyes intensified, becoming something primal and possessive that made my knees weak. It was a look that stripped away any pretense, leaving me bare and aching in its wake.
But instead of the immediate claim I expected, he surprised me.
“I will, angel. Tonight. I want you properly rested first.” His voice was rough with restraint, as he struggled to control the desire I could see burning in his eyes.
“For now, I want to see you in that little red bikini I bought for you. We’ll go to the beach, relax for the afternoon.
Or perhaps we can stay here and enjoy the infinity pool.
Naked. Either way, I plan to take my time rubbing oil on every inch of your body. ”
My stomach tightened at the thought, heat pooling low in my belly at the images his words conjured.
“Every inch?” I asked, my voice breathless.
Alexander’s hand moved with deliberate slowness, his fingers tracing a path from my collarbone down to cup my breast through the delicate lace of my bra. His thumb found my nipple, peaked from arousal, and circled it with maddening precision.
“Every,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl of promise. “Inch.”