Page 1 of Etched In Stone
Chapter One
Krystina
I settled into the cushion of the jet’s plush leather seat, the buttery-soft material yielding beneath me like an embrace. This wasn’t just any aircraft—it was a flying sanctuary of indulgence, all rich mahogany panels gleaming under soft lighting and crystal fixtures that caught the late afternoon sun streaming through the windows. The cabin wrapped me in luxury, seeming to hold me as tenderly as my new husband as we jetted off to a world where only we existed.
My heart hadn’t stopped fluttering since we said “I do” mere hours ago, each palpitation a reminder of the whirlwind of vows and kisses that had become my reality. The phantom weight of my wedding dress—now carefully packed away—still seemed to rustle around my ankles, replaced by the flowing material of my travel dress that Alexander had chosen for me. Even in this simple gesture, his attention to detail showed. The fabric was the exact shade of seafoam that showed off my sun-kissed skin, and made my brown eyes appear even richer than their usual warm chocolate color.
I stole a glance at Alexander, seated in regal repose next to me, and felt my breath catch as it always did when I truly looked at him. His dark hair was slightly tousled from running his fingers through it—a habit he had when deep in thought—and the late-day sun streaming through the jet’s windows cast golden highlights across his strong jaw. He’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his crisp white shirt, revealing just a hint of the chest I knew so intimately. His presence was both a soothing balm and a spark—he calmed the remnants of wedding day chaos that still buzzed in my veins while simultaneously igniting an electric anticipation for what lay ahead.
The magnitude of this new life still felt surreal.
Mrs. Alexander Stone.
The name played through my mind like a melody I couldn’t stop humming. After everything we’d been through—the obstacles, the tragic circumstances, the moments when I thought I might lose him forever—here we were, husband and wife, embarking on our forever.
As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Alexander turned from the newspaper he’d been reading and laid his hand on my thigh. His touch was immediate and electric, his thumb drawing slow, deliberate circles through the delicate fabric of my dress. The caress was possessive yet gentle, a silent claim that sent shivers racing up my spine. I leaned back into the plush headrest, allowing the sensation to wash over me, and closed my eyes to savor the intimate caress that promised so much more.
“I’m looking forward to three weeks of just us,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low timbre that never failed to make my pulse quicken. His fingers pressed slightly deeper, the heat of his palm burning through silk. “No interruptions, no business calls, no outside world. Just me worshipping every inch of your body whenever I want. Are you ready for that, angel?”
The endearment rolled off his tongue like honey, the way it always did, but somehow it felt different now. More permanent. More... mine. I opened my eyes to meet his sapphire gaze, finding reassurance there alongside a thrilling anticipation that made my core clench with want. Those eyes had seen me at my most vulnerable, had watched me break and rebuild, had witnessed every facet of who I was, and loved me anyway.
“More than ready,” I responded, my voice a whisper laced with excitement. The words felt inadequate for the rush of emotion flooding through me. Ready didn’t begin to cover the desperate need I had to lose myself in him, to explore this new dimension of our relationship without the weight of the outside world pressing down on us. “But I still don’t know where we are going.”
He smiled then, slow and devastating, the corners of his deep blue eyes crinkling with a secret that made him look younger and more carefree than I’d seen him in months.
“Patience, angel. I promise it’s worth the wait.”
Internally, I mused on the promise of our dream honeymoon, the allure heightened tenfold by the unknown destination. My imagination ran wild with possibilities—I envisioned pristine white sands and crystal-clear waters that shifted from turquoise to sapphire, or perhaps a European cityscape steeped in centuries of history and romance, cobblestone streets and intimate cafes where we could get lost in each other’s over a bottle of wine. Or maybe a secluded mountain retreat where we could make love by firelight.
Wherever we were going, I was certain it would be special. Alexander’s surprises were never anything short of extraordinary, each one more thoughtful and perfectly tailored to me than the last. He had a way of seeing straight into my soul and giving me things I didn’t even know I wanted.
“Can you give me a hint?” I asked, unable to keep the pleading note from my voice. “Just a tiny one?”
Alexander shook his head, his smile widening as he watched my expression shift to mock disappointment.
“You need to trust me,” he murmured, lifting my hand to press a soft kiss to my wedding ring. The platinum band felt foreign and familiar all at once, a tangible reminder of the vows we’d exchanged.
Trust him.
The words echoed in my head, and I realized how completely, utterly true they were. I did trust him—with every fiber of my being and every beat of my heart. There had been a time when trust felt impossible, when my past had built walls so high I thought no one could scale them. But Alexander had torn down those barriers brick by brick, proving over and over that he was worthy of my faith, my love, my everything.
His thumb paused in its ministrations, pressing purposefully against my inner thigh in a way that drew a sharp gasp from my lips. Desire burned hot and bright in his eyes, transforming them from their usual cool blue to something molten and dangerous. Heat pooled low in my belly, my body responding to his touch with an urgency that still surprised me. Before I could see where that look would take us, before I could lean in and lose myself in the promise I saw there, the moment was punctuated by the smooth, powerful hum of the engines spinning to full power.
The private jet Alexander had commissioned was about to take off. Through the windows, I could see the ground crew moving with practiced efficiency, and my stomach fluttered with excitement that had nothing to do with flying and everything to do with the man beside me.
The force of acceleration pushed me back against the seat as we began our roll down the runway, the world outside becoming a blur of lights and movement until the wheels left the ground with barely a tremor. The jet climbed steeply, slicing through wisps of cotton-white clouds, carrying us away from everything familiar toward a mysterious paradise that existed somewhere beyond the horizon.
I leaned into Alexander, breathing in his familiar scent—expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely him that I could never quite name but would recognize anywhere. I was eager to begin our honeymoon properly, to experience the unending pleasures it would surely bring. Physical, yes, but also emotional. The chance to exist in our own private bubble, to learn new things about each other, to build a life with my husband without the constant intrusions of the outside world.
My husband.
Knowing he was mine sent a thrill through me. He was my compass, my anchor in every storm that had tried to tear us apart, my dominant guiding star in the darkest nights when I’d thought all hope was lost. The thrill of the unknown didn’t unsettle me as it might have once. Instead, it filled me with excitement because he would be at my side through every moment of this adventure.
Always.
The warmth of Alexander’s body pressed against me as his hand returned to my thigh, firm yet tender, each slow circle of his thumb sending ripples of anticipation through me that seemed to reach every nerve ending. His touch was a silent language all its own, one we’d developed over months of learning each other’s bodies, needs, and darkest desires.
Time seemed to slow in the protection of the jet’s hum, the steady drone of the engines creating a peaceful white noise that made the outside world feel very far away. My eyelids grew heavy, weighted down by more than just the gentle vibration of the aircraft. My wedding night with Alexander had been pure bliss—hours of worship and passion and whispered words of love—and neither of us had gotten more than an hour of actual sleep between the ceremony preparations and our early morning departure. The exhaustion was catching up with me now, my body finally allowing itself to relax completely for the first time in weeks.
