Page 15 of Etched In Stone
Chuckling, I took her hand in mine. “Come on, angel. There’s more to explore.”
Chapter 8
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.
