Page 9 of Etched In Stone (The Stone Saga #3.5)

Alexander

After perusing the market and purchasing a few souvenirs, we returned to the villa where we could get the privacy we craved.

As our hired driver navigated the winding road, I kept one hand possessively on Krystina’s thigh, my thumb tracing slow circles on her thigh.

She’d grown quiet since our conversation about children, but I could read every nuance of her expression, every subtle shift in her breathing.

After months of studying her, claiming her, making her mine, I thought I knew her better than she knew herself.

But I couldn’t get a read on her now.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I commanded softly, my grip tightening slightly on her leg. It wasn’t a request—I wanted to dissect every thought that passed through her beautiful mind.

She turned to look at me, those chocolate brown eyes reflecting the golden light, but more importantly, reflecting the trust she’d placed entirely in my hands.

“I was just thinking about how different our conversations feel on this trip. Back in New York, we’re always so focused on the immediate—work, schedules, and the next obligation.

Arguing about your need for constant control,” she added with a teasing wink.

“But here, talking about our future, feels different than at home—we feel different. I don’t know if it’s because of where we are, or if it’s because we’re now officially married.

But it’s like I can dream with the realization that nothing is out of reach. ”

“What do you dream of?” I asked, bringing her hand to my mouth, pressing her skin to my lips to remind her who she belonged to. Every kiss was a brand, every touch a claim.

“Simple things, mostly. Like having Sunday morning breakfasts that last for hours because we have nowhere else to be. Or taking spontaneous trips to places we’ve never been, just because we saw a photograph that made us curious.

” She paused, and I could see her gathering courage to reveal more.

“Or reviewing the blueprints for our future home—a sanctuary for both of us, with mutual respect but where you’re always in control. I’d be safe and protected.”

Her words stirred something primitive and possessive deep in my chest. The need to protect and provide for a woman who needed neither was real. To create a world where she could flourish was as fundamental to my nature as breathing.

“You’ll have all of that,” I said, my voice carrying the weight of absolute certainty. “I’ll give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of and things you haven’t even imagined yet. I’ll always protect what’s mine.”

The way her pupils dilated at my words sent satisfaction coursing through me. She needed my strength, my control, as much as I needed her submission.

“I never knew I wanted to surrender control until I met you—even if I begrudgingly give it at times,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “My whole life, I had to be strong, had to fight for everything. But with you...” She trailed off, searching for words.

“With me, you can let go,” I finished for her, my hand moving to cup the back of her neck in a gesture that was both protective and possessive. “Your only job is to trust me.”

The car rounded a curve, and suddenly our villa came into view.

But I barely glanced at the structure—my attention was focused entirely on the woman beside me, on the way her breathing had quickened, on the flush spreading across her cheeks.

She was responding to my dominance exactly as she was meant to.

A sultry Caribbean twilight descended, and a warm breeze swirled around us, ruffling Krystina’s curls as we stepped away from the car. My hand rested possessively on the small of her back as we walked, the heat of my touch seeping through the thin fabric of her sundress.

“Look at the sky,” Krystina said, tilting her head back in that graceful way that exposed the elegant line of her throat. My mark wasn’t visible there yet, but it would be. Soon.

I followed her gaze, but my attention was divided between the spectacular sunset and the way the colored light played across her skin. Everything about this moment—the isolation, the beauty, the woman at my side—reinforced my sense of ownership, of having claimed something rare and precious.

Most of the words we’d exchanged throughout the day were laden with sexual teasing and innuendo. Now, desire hung thick in the balmy air between us, and every nerve ending felt electrified. We barely made it through the villa’s front door before I had her pressed up against the wall.

“I need to possess you completely,” I growled, my voice taking on the authoritative edge that made her shiver. “Mind, body, and soul.”

My mouth claimed hers in a hungry kiss, and my cock throbbed, already desperate for relief. Krystina wrapped her arms around my neck, surrendering entirely to me in a way that made me impossibly hard. When we finally came up for air, her eyes seared into mine, dark and full of need.

“Mrs. Stone,” I whispered, gripping her waist possessively. “Come with me to the bedroom. I want to own your pleasure. Your pain. And every scream.”

The way her eyes darkened at my words, the slight parting of her lips, told me everything I needed to know about how I affected her. She needed this as much as I did—needed to surrender control as much as I needed to take it.

“Mmm, yes. Show me,” she purred, a wicked glint in her chocolate eyes.

The surrender in her voice, the complete trust in her gaze, sent electricity racing through my veins.

I took her hand as we made our way through the villa to the lavish suite.

The dim light from the setting sun streamed in through the open glass doors, bathing the luxurious room in a warm, sensual glow.

Beyond the expansive terrace, ocean waves lapped gently at the white sand, the perfect rhythm for what I was about to do—almost. Just one this was missing.

With a flick of my thumb, I queued a track from my phone, and the hidden speakers came alive.

“Sweet Release” by Nu Aspect spilled into the room, its deep basslines and hypnotic synths pulsing with slow, sultry energy.

The music throbbed like a heartbeat, each beat steeped in temptation, wrapping around us in a haze of heat and desire.

It was the kind of song that demanded surrender—dark, sexy, and impossible to ignore.

Returning my attention back to Krystina, I slowly undressed her, savoring every inch of her creamy skin. Her curves drove me wild. I could never—would never—get enough of the fiery goddess before me.

“Fuck, angel. You’re so beautiful, it hurts,” I growled, my voice low and gravelly as I bent down to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck and collarbone. My need for her grew hotter by the second. “And you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” she moaned, arching her back as my tongue trailed lower, teasing her hardened nipples.

With expert precision, my wife’s skilled fingers found their way to the buttons of my white shirt, urgency building in our heated tango. When she was completely naked, and I was left shirtless with only my khaki shorts, I stepped back.

“Sit down,” I told her.

I watched Krystina perch on the edge of the bed, her brown curls cascading over her bare shoulders as she gazed at me with those mesmerizing chocolate eyes. A surge of emotion coursed through me at the sight of her—my wife, my soulmate, the woman who ignited a fire in my very soul.

“You’re ravishing,” I murmured, drinking in every exquisite detail of her.

She grinned playfully. “That’s quite an old-fashioned word. You’re making me feel like Scarlet O’Hara. Will you be like Rhett Butler and throw me over your shoulder so you can have your way with me?”

Her casual flirtations never failed to stir something primal within me. She filled me with an intoxicating blend of tenderness and raw desire that I’d never experienced with anyone else. She was my anchor, my purpose, the missing piece that made this broken man whole again.

“Oh, I’ll have my way with you, Mrs. Stone. Remember my only rule for this trip: I’m in control of everything at all times. But before I have my way with you, I have a wedding present for you.”

“But you already gave me a present. They were the earrings I wore on our wedding day.”

I moved deliberately toward my suitcase, hyperaware of her curious gaze following my every movement. “Angel, I’ll never stop giving you gifts. You really need to get used to it.”

Feeling around the inner pocket of my suitcase, my fingers closed around the small box nestled inside. I held up the box wrapped in shimmering silver paper and tied with a delicate bow.

“You spoil me, Alex.”

I chuckled softly as I approached her, the weight of the box in my hand a reminder of its significance. This gift represented more than just a trinket. It symbolized the journey we were on together—past, present, and future.

I extended the box to Krystina, hearing her breath catch when her fingers brushed against mine. Our eyes locked, and in that silent exchange, I saw a reflection of my desire.

As she lay there naked on the bed, she carefully untied the bow, her nimble fingers working with delicate precision. The wrapping paper fell away, revealing a sleek black box beneath. She cracked it open.

“Oh!” Krystina gasped, her brown eyes widening in surprise and delight. “It’s beautiful!”

She lifted the anklet from its velvet cushion, the delicate platinum chain catching the soft cabin light. The tiny triskelion key charm encrusted with diamonds dangled, spinning slowly.

I drank in her expression of wonder, committing every detail to memory—the slight parting of her lips, the sparkle in her eyes, and the way her curls framed her face as she leaned in to examine the charm more closely.

“Allow me,” I said, gesturing to her ankle.

I took the anklet from her hands, my fingers brushing against hers. The contact sent goosebumps over her skin. Kneeling at her feet, I traced the delicate curve of her ankle, savoring her softness. With deliberate slowness, I fastened the clasp.

“Now,” I began, kissing my way up her leg. “I believe I have unfinished business to attend to.”

Her breath hitched, and I saw her eyes sparkle with dark desire. Then she began to fidget when I kissed a sensitive spot behind her knee, a habit I found irresistibly sexy for some unknown reason.

“What sort of business, sir?”

I sat back on my heels, maintaining eye contact and suppressing a groan. I loved when she turned into a sexual deviant.

“I think I need to blindfold you—force you to surrender control and let your other senses take over.”

“Sensory deprivation. A favorite pastime of yours.”

I leaned in, my voice low and resonant. “It’s because it requires irrevocable trust. Your pleasure is my ultimate priority.”

The air between us seemed to thicken. I could still hear the gentle lapping of waves on the shore, a rhythmic counterpoint to our quickening breaths. The scent of sea salt mingled with Krystina’s flowery perfume, creating an intoxicating blend.

Unable to resist any longer, I crawled up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She responded with equal fervor, her hands sliding down to grip my shoulders. Our kiss deepened, a dance of tongues and teeth, each caress speaking volumes of our shared desire.

A soft moan escaped her, the vibration traveling through me and igniting every nerve ending. Our bodies pressed closer, the heat between us building.

“Alex,” Krystina gasped as we parted for air. Her chest heaved, and she began to fumble with my belt buckle. “I need you.”

And I needed her. Desperately. The blindfold would have to wait for round two.

I pressed my cock into the liquid heat that had gathered between her legs, stretching her with my girth. Inch by inch, I fed her my length, claiming her.

“This pussy is mine, angel. Forever.”

“Yes. I’m yours,” she said between pants. The sound of her ragged breathing was nearly enough to make me come. I gripped her hips, preparing for an explosive ride.

“I’m not going to hold back. I want you to take all of me.”

Then I began to move. I started slow, but I wasn’t gentle.

I pushed in hard, her breath catching as she absorbed each stab of pleasure.

I rocked into her over and over again, working her into a desperate fever.

I leaned in to kiss the shell of her ear as my hips pumped, kissing down her neck and shoulders, pushing into her hot well until she began to tremble.

Then, yanking her hips up, I pushed forward until the tip of my cock was pressing against her very core.

Instantly, she cried out from the pressure of me being so deep.

“Oh, God!” she gasped in shock.

And that’s when I felt it. Pleasure shot through my veins as the walls of her pussy began to constrict around me.

She sheathed my cock in heat, pulsing with desire.

I pulled back slowly, then drove all the way home.

Again and again, I impaled her with a savage rhythm, needing to feel her orgasm more than I needed my own.

Her body writhed with pleasure, taking all that I could give.

“I’m going to come. Meet me there,” she pleaded.

Her desperation nearly broke my sanity. I was completely lost in her.

In this. In the moment. I thrust hard, and she matched my movements, driving us to unbelievable heights.

The pace grew erratic, more jerking and demanding.

Our gazes locked, and she tightened around me.

I pushed up, piercing her, and she cried out my name.

“Alex!”

“Give it to me now, angel. I want your orgasm,” I demanded, my voice rough.

At my words, she exploded like a bomb, but I didn’t stop moving. I continued to piston into her, my hands digging into her hips, demanding her to take it. Her back arched, and she cried out. This time, I allowed myself to fall with her.

My body went taut, straining so tight I thought I would burst apart at the seams. My orgasm hit from every direction. Rushes of white and color flashed before my eyes, dizzying and all-consuming.

Just as it always was with Krystina.

My wife.