Set In Stone

by Rachel Robinson

  I remove my karate black belt from the box and twirl it around my pointer finger. “All in a day’s…or year’s work, you know. Please, please don’t flatter me.” Raising one brow, I wrap the dark fabric around her waist and pull her toward me until she lands on my lap. “I thought you were working?” I ask, already deciding where I want to fuck her.

  She shrugs, the hint of a smile playing on her mouth. “I intended to, but then I saw you sitting here in your uniform with your life’s accomplishments scattered about and I thought maybe you might want to accomplish something else for a while?” Morganna wiggles on my lap and leans down to run her tongue over my bottom lip. That’s all it takes for my cock to pound.

  Moving to my top lip, she pauses. “What’s this?” she asks.

  I glance where she’s looking and see another of my boxes beside my chair, wide open. Anticipating what she’s going to ask me about, I reply quickly, “Nothing worth interrupting your mouth for.” I push her hips down on my dick and flex it so she knows exactly my intentions. I want inside her silky pussy right now.

  “It’s a jewelry box, Steven. You interrupt the Pope for a jewelry box. Come on,” she jokes. Her eyes flutter closed when she feels my hardness throbbing beneath her. At the prospect of jewelry, she leans over and snatches the box that will lead to conversation instead of sex. I groan a small noise.

  Morganna looks at me, worrying one corner of her perfect bottom lip between her teeth. “Can I?” she asks.

  I shrug, unbuttoning the top buttons on my dress shirt. “Knock yourself out.”

  Her eyes widen and then narrow when she sees the sparkly “S” necklace that’s been hidden for God knows how many years. A token of my biggest mistake and my largest regret packaged in a beautiful box, sparkling with diamonds. She tilts the box so I can see inside. “Is this what I think it is?”

  I pause for several seconds. “Well if you think it’s just an ‘S’ then, no. If you think it’s a token of the feelings I’ve had for you for our entire lives then, yes. It’s always been yours.” My heart and the damn necklace. “You keep it.”

  She smiles this radiant, life shattering smile as she unfastens it from the box and offers it to me to clasp around her neck. With her sitting atop my lap, finally wearing my S, I get the moment I’ve wanted since the day I laid eyes on it in the jewelry store. The S hits right above her cleavage and the light from the large bay window overlooking the farm hits it just right, creating a rainbow effect. It’s stunning.

  “It looks good,” I say. I mean so much more than that, but she knows. Morganna starts laughing, her eyes dancing between my face and the large, gold trident pinned on my uniform.

  I shift her on my lap. “What’s so funny?”

  Hopping up, taking my hand in hers, she drags me out of the kitchen, stepping over boxes as she goes. “I have an early birthday present for you and I think you’ll find it quite funny given the timing of my gift.” Turning around she walks backward toward our bedroom, one hand caressing the necklace. Her crimson, knee-length dress hugs her body as she moves, her bare feet making the perfect padding sound against the floor.

  “You have me endlessly curious, but I like where this is going,” I say, letting her lead. “You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday, Morg.”

  She nods her head. “I know this, Steven. It’s sort of more than a birthday gift.” Her hand shakes a little, proving her words mean more than what resides on the surface. I squeeze her hand once.

  Our bedroom isn’t finished quite yet. We have a mattress on the floor. A mattress topper was delivered this morning, and hopefully the actual furniture that took her weeks to select will be here any day. It reminds me of a college dorm, or a low budget porno flick. With her in the room, I don’t give a shit what it reminds me of, because I’d fall asleep next to her anywhere.

  She stops in the middle of the bare bones room and drops my hand. “We’ve moved in together.”

  I tilt my head and raise one brow. “Yeah…” Captain Obvious. Not her style at all. I remove my uniform shirt and toss it over a wardrobe box while I wait to see what’s coming next. I’m excited.

  She clears her throat. “You know that’s not exactly the southern thing to do.” Now I know where this is going. I’m not sure of her exact approach, because she’s as predictable as a lion, but I know she’s going to broach the marriage topic. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, not that I haven’t rolled the idea over and over in my mind. I think about it all the time. I figured she’d let me know if and when she’s ready. If she’s never ready, I’d come to terms with it eventually. A punishment for not making her mine forever when we were eighteen. You won’t see me taking a mile when given an inch…quite the opposite.

  “Are you worried about what the good people of Virginia Beach will think?” I ask, starting to pull at the white wife-beater that’s tucked in my pants.

  Morg holds out a hand to stop me. “Keep your clothes on for a little longer. I won’t be able to get this out otherwise.” Her tone is brisk.

  I let the shirt go and leave my arms hanging by my sides, grinning so wide it hurts. “The floor is yours,” I reply.

  “God forgive me,” she whispers to the ceiling before pulling her dress over her head. My confusion morphs into lust when I see her standing before me in a matching bra and panty set. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her naked due to our schedules and her father’s visit. My dick is celebrating, tenting my pants immediately.

  I make a move to approach, but she shakes her head to thwart me.

  “Don’t pull this shit right now, Morg.” The dominant act hasn’t been in our bedroom unless I’ve asked for it. Right now, I want nothing to do with it. I want to make love to her while watching her perky tits bounce my S around. Yes, that’s what I want.

  “Do you remember when you told me that you were worried that I would never fully be yours?”

  I nod, eyes narrowed. I keep my gaze trained on her face, but my stomach is roiling with unease. “I remember,” I admit. It was a hard conversation—one I had to open up and expose my soul for. I’ll never forget it.

  “I don’t want you to feel that way. Never for a second should you feel that I’m not yours. You’re mine, always, right?” Her voice quavers and I have the compelling need to comfort her. To take her in my arms and never let her go.

  “Morg. You’re mine. All. Mine. Forever.”

  She takes one hesitant step toward me. Then another. My heart rate increases. When she stops about two feet away from me, she tucks two thumbs into her panties and slides them down her legs. Unsure if I have touching privileges yet, I continue gazing into her endless, gray eyes.

  “This is the strongest promise I could think of,” she rasps. I let my gaze flick down. Her S tattoo is gone. Well, it’s not gone, it’s still there, except now it says my name, Steven. I hit my knees in front of her to look at it more closely—to make sure it doesn’t wipe off. From this distance, I smell her. I want her. She’s mine. My name is on her body as proof.

  I feel her hands on the top of my head. “Happy Birthday?”

  I kiss the red skin around the tattoo. It’s not huge or ostentatious, but the meaning behind it is so large that it could swallow the Earth whole. Splaying my hands on her firm, bare ass I pull her closer to me and I kiss her wet pussy. She responds by moving her legs further apart. A breathy moan escapes her lips. “Wait, Steven. Wait,” she gasps.

  I look up, but keep my mouth glued right where I want it, tongue lashing her clit. Her scent makes my head spin. Like when I’m working it’s a one-stop shop for a one-track mind.

  Resting her hands on both sides of my head, her gaze locks on mine. I remove my lips from her and give her my full attention. “Marry me, Steven Warner. Will you marry me?”

  I pray that shock doesn’t cross my face. I’ve been trained to control my features in hostile situations. I know how to give nothing away. Torture me to an inch of my bloody death and I’ll remain emotionless
to the naked eye. Right now, though, with every emotion burning my heart like a match, I know she sees it all. She sees how much I love her. How much I need her. She sees my answer written all over my face.

  Her full lips pull into a beatific smile. “That’s a yes?” she asks, kneeling down to meet me at eye level. I keep my hands on her, clasping my arms around her soft back. Her hair sweeps across the backs of my hands.

  She kisses me softly once. It gives me time to unclog the emotion from my fucking throat. “Fuck yes,” I reply as I pull away and break the kiss. “Fuck yes, I’ll marry you.” It takes until this moment to realize my pride hasn’t reared. A woman just proposed to me and I feel nothing but pure excitement—bliss.

  “I love you so much,” she whispers, taking my undershirt in her cool hands.

  “I love you. I always have and I always will.” I kiss her nose and both of her cheeks. Her gray eyes leak with emotion, so I kiss away her tears.

  This is the moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life. The moment I hold everything that truly matters. The moment I realize that my entire life guided me here. That it was all for her.

  That everything has unquestioningly, always been for her.

  Morganna

  My plan worked. He said yes—not that I anticipated a “no,” but I’m ecstatic just the same. It counts as one of the biggest victories in my life. As far as I can tell, his pride is still intact, which was my only concern. I couldn’t stand another single second passing where he wondered if he’d always play second fiddle to my past. To Stone. Happily evers are different from happily ever afters. You can have both: sometimes with the same person or perhaps it’s with two different people. Maybe it’s different people with the same soul. Stone got one. Steven got the other.

  Nothing will replace my love for Stone. My heart expanded to make room for two great loves. After I finished worrying about what it meant to love two people at the same time, everything became less complicated. I could live life without regrets or fears.

  Kneeling in our bedroom face to face, surrounded by boxes with frames leaning against walls, his hands caressing my back, I’ve never felt so at home—so complete. Buying this slice of my old life gave me a piece of the old, non-scorned, un-weathered by life Morganna. I rounded the corner of bitter bitch, who takes what she wants regardless of cost, and changed into the person I always thought I was to begin with. There are people in the world that force you to change and then there are those that invoke a change without you even realizing what has happened.

  “I’m going to make love to you now,” Steven rasps into my ear, one of his hands stroking between my legs. Petting me gently, but with firm purpose. “Because I’m going to marry the shit out of you.” I sigh a noise of complete contentment.

  I let my hands glide up his torso to his freshly shaven face and then I take a step back on my knees toward our palatial mattress on the floor. He grins, then pounces, softly tackling me onto my back.

  “A take-down from your knees, too. You’re so strong,” I say, clinging to his biceps. He responds by smashing his lips against mine and grinding his massive cock between my legs. I’m wet and ready. My desire finally matching the insane love I have for Steven. Now, there’s nothing left to do but sit back and enjoy the ride.

  Thrusting against me softly, he asks, “Are you sure? I know better than to question your decisions, but I have to ask.”

  How to tell him that I’ve never been surer of anything?

  “I’m positively sure of two things right now. One being that marrying you is exactly what I want, and the second being you need to remove your pants so we can get down to business.” He unfastens my bra easily with one hand while unbuttoning his pants with the other. Reaching down I feel him, long and thick. He slides out of his pants and rests on top of me, the tip of his dick nestled at my wet entrance.

  Cradling my face in his hands, he says, “You know I’ll never get used to this. You. Being mine.” His right hand strays from my face and grazes the side of my body until his fingertips rest on top of my tattoo. It was a huge leap of faith, a chance I wouldn’t usually take—especially because I’m conservative with my skin. For the approval reflecting in Steven’s eyes, it was worth every additional letter. I would do it a million times over.

  “I wasn’t sure it would be enough,” I admit. “It took me such a long time to come around—to actually open my eyes and see what’s always been in front of me. You have more patience than anyone gives you credit for.”

  He bites his lip and sucks in a long breath. “My patience isn’t that strong,” he growls, nudging me with his erection. I open my legs a little, in invitation, and he slides in, just barely entering. My muscles contract around him, drawing him in further, wanting every inch to fill me completely. Moaning with pleasure, I relish the sensation of having his ridges rubbing the insides of my sex. “You feel so good, Morg. So good,” he says against my neck.

  “Nothing feels as good as this,” I return, lifting my hips, forcing him to sink all the way inside. Steven’s eyes slam shut as he hisses out a long breath. Grabbing his firm ass, I guide him to thrust into me again and again. I feel his hands grasp my waist and then he’s rolling us over, but he doesn’t release me. Using those biceps I was just complimenting, he lifts me and lowers me without breaking a sweat. I use the tops of my feet on the bed to keep balance as he fucks me. I brace myself by gripping his wrists. I can see his face, the smirk, as he penetrates me. He turns me on top into something of his own variety.

  “What about this? How does this feel?” he asks, white teeth peeking out from his lips. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

  Readjusting my grip, I try to lower myself, but he doesn’t let me. “It feels like you’re fucking me. Let me,” I beg.

  His smile widens. He loves it when I curse. It’s the most erotic grin I’ve ever seen and I tighten around him in response. Steven loosens his grip and I ride his wet cock, rocking my hips as I slide up and down. He groans and closes his eyes at the same time that every muscle on his sculpted stomach flexes. With two rough fingers, he rubs and presses my clit in perfect small circles.

  Leaning over his chest, my hair cascading over his pecs, I explode around him, flexing as much as his hard girth will let me. Turning me over with ease, he places me on my back as the tingles taking over my body subside. He continues thrusting into me, his chest sliding my breasts up and down as he eases in and out of my body.

  His pace slows and his lips find mine. “I fucking love you, Morga-liscious,” he says against my mouth, before he buries his face in my neck. I feel him nibbling the chain of my necklace.

  A small smile creeps onto my face as I relish the connection, of being filled and whole in all ways.

  “I’m coming inside you,” Steven growls, pounding into me a few more times before sheathing himself entirely, his dick throbbing as he releases deep inside me. I wrap my legs around him to keep him buried inside me as his body jerks with the force of his orgasm.

  Taking his ear between my teeth, I whisper, “I love you, too…fiancé.” His chest reverberates laughter. He leans up, brushes several strands of my hair out of my face, and shakes his head at me.

  “You are unpredictable in the best kind of way. Has anyone ever told you that?” he asks, eyes chock full of love.

  Smiling wide, I tell a white lie. “Just you.”

  “Forever, then?” Steven asks.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s set. Till death do us part.”

  In the end, when all artificial light is gone and only the moon glints through our bare bedroom windows, we’re nothing but indistinguishable silhouettes anyways. Just a man and a woman in love.

  Into the dark I whisper, “All I’ve ever needed is the S word.”

  The spur of the moment living room dinner party turns out to be the best decision we could have made. Windsor is holding her sweet baby daughter on her hip as she makes polite conversation with Toni, my newest apprentice. I owe her in more ways th
an I can quantify. If it weren’t for her, Alex’s charade could have continued on for longer than it did. I shiver with that thought. I’m still endlessly disappointed in myself for that disaster.

  Maverick has his screaming son slung over one shoulder when he approaches me. “Horse shit,” he deadpans. “What bathroom can I use to hose this magical ogre off?” Putting a hand over my mouth and nose, I point to the hallway, trying to control my laughter.

  “Did he roll in some fresh patties?” Steven asks, wafting a hand in front of his face. Windsor passes off the baby to me as she follows her men down the hallway.

  “You were supposed to watch him, Mav,” I hear Windsor mutter.

  Maverick looks at her, his dimples appearing. “I watched him. Watched him learn a lesson about farm life.” She shakes her head and takes the crying boy from his father. She coos and promises dessert to halt his tears, but Maverick is still laughing as he holds open the bathroom door.

  I switch the baby Carolina from one hip to the other, smiling at her sweet, drool covered face. “Never fall for a man like your daddy, Caro. Never. Nothing but trouble…”

  “And horse shit,” Steven cuts in, kissing the baby’s fat, pink cheek. “We’re trouble and horse shit, I’ll tell ya!”

  “Don’t swear at her!” I command, widening my eyes at Steven.

  “That doesn’t count. She can’t even talk yet,” he explains in a baby voice, like it’s a rational explanation. Carolina is looking at Steven with a huge baby grin that melts my heart. “We’ll find you a good, strong team guy one day, won’t we baby? He’ll have big muscles and a big…” Steven says, glancing at me.

  “Heart,” I finish for him. He laughs, the lines around his eyes brightening his whole face.

  “Heart. Of course, heart,” he says, taking the baby from me. “Big and tough on the outside, and warm and gooey on the inside. Like a cookie. That’s what you want in a man.” I look to the ceiling and pray that we don’t have impressionable females in our house for a long time. At least until Steven knows not to compare men to cookies.