Page 13 of Stroke of Luck

“What the fuck did you say?!”

Othello slowly raises a hand and wipes his face off so the coffee I sprayed at him isn’t dripping off his chin anymore. Not speaking, he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, cleaning off his hand on his pants before he stands. Once he manages to get his emotions under control, he walks out of the study and down the hall towards the stairs. Still reeling from the information he shared, it takes me a moment before I chase after him.

“Hold on, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and walk away! We need to talk about it,” I snap. “What the hell do you mean they want us to get married? I don’t even know you!”

Giorgi peeks out from the kitchen with a surprised expression. Apparently, I’m not the only one who didn’t know the plans around here.

“If our grandparents are such close friends, why didn’t I ever hear about any of this?” I demand, hot on Othello’s heels.

He enters his bedroom, slamming the door behind him—as if that will stop me. Throwing the door open, I find Othello peeling off his shirt, revealing his sculpted body that almost manages to distract me from why I’m here. His skin is flawless, the only mark on it a tattoo of a family crest over his heart with his last name written in Italian. Shaking my head to clear it of the stupor his godly physique put me in, I open my mouth to continue my ranting when he drops his dress pants. His perfectly sculpted ass is hugged by tight silk boxers that leave nothing to the imagination, showing just how much heat he’s packing in the front.

“If all you’re going to do is gawk, then leave. If you have something to say, by all means, continue,” Othello instructs as he walks into his giant walk-in closet.

Giving myself a mental slap, I go in after him. “Look, this is the twenty-first century. We don’t have to cater to their whims on shit like this. Are you telling me that you want to marry me? Because I’m not really feeling like you like me at all.”

When he finishes buttoning a clean pair of pants, he turns to face me before slowly stalking over to me. As much as I want to prove that I’m not at all intimidated or turned on by this, I can’t, as my back hits the full-length mirror on the wall. His emerald eyes glitter with a predatory gleam as he boxes me in with his shirtless body, that I want to touch oh so badly.

“What gave you that impression, baby girl?” Othello murmurs before he leans in and nips at my ear. “I love a challenge, and the spirit you have is intoxicating as much as it’s frustrating. You see, I’m a man who’s used to being obeyed, and you, Skyler Leto, do not seem to listen very well. Time will tell how that will affect our relationship. For now I’ll allow it—to a certain extent.”

When he steps away from me, I’m panting like I’ve just run a mile, unsure if I’m going to be able to convince my legs to hold me upright a moment longer. Deciding it’s better not to chance it, I sink to the floor in a graceless puddle. Damn that man and his silver tongue.

I have to say something to persuade this man that I’m not the right woman for him. There is no way I can be married this young. What about all the dreams and plans that I have? No, I am not going to let this outdated custom ruin my life.

“Trust me, you don’t want to marry me. I don’t do monogamy. It’s stupid to think that you can get everything you need from one person all your life. That’s why so many people stray from their partner. I’ve always dated and slept with multiple people at the same time.” When I see the raised eyebrow, I roll my eyes. “Everyone involved knew what was going on. I’m not a bitch like that. I don’t sneak around. If you want to be with me, you’re either okay with it or it doesn’t happen. Somehow, I feel like you’re the type to kill someone for touching what’s yours, and I don’t want anyone’s blood on my hands when you know the score.”

As Othello buttons the cuffs of his shirt, he seems to think about what I’ve said. “I can see logic in your way of thinking. How about this… you may continue to pursue your interests with the men in this house, but no one else. These men are my family, and I’m used to having to share things with them, and with them alone. If I were to find out that you did stray, you are absolutely correct that I would kill whoever dared touch what is mine.”

My jaw falls open, and I’m so very glad I was already sitting. “What?! You’re okay with me being involved with other people?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You would have my last name and be legally bound to me for the rest of our lives. It is my duty to provide for my wife, and if that is what you require, I will allow it within those guidelines,” he answers as he squats down before me.

Think, Skyler, think. There has to be something else you can say that would piss him off and change his mind. No mafia boss can be this reasonable.

“Fine, but my other deal-breaker is that you can’t have any other partners outside of this house either,” I counter.

“Baby girl, that won’t be an issue. I doubt there’s another woman who can hold a candle to the amount of work you’re going to take to manage,” Othello says as he grips my wrist and pulls me to my feet.

Still unsteady, I fall against his chest, causing him to wrap his arm around me to keep me from ending up on the floor again. Looking up at him, I frown. “That doesn’t seem like a compliment, more like the description of an unruly dog or something.”

“Not at all, you could never be someone’s pet.” Othello smiles, shocking me into silence.

Gripping my chin with his other hand, he tilts my head back so he can capture my lips with his own. I expect him to take charge and control it, forcing me to submit, but it’s tentative, as if he’s unsure if I’ll welcome his advances.

I don’t know what to do—my body cries out for him to take me and make me his, however he sees fit, while my brain wants to run from the man who could so easily take over my life. When I don’t push him away, his hand shifts to cup my cheek as he deepens the kiss, asking me to let him in. If I do this, I know I’ll never be able to walk away from him.

Something in my gut tells me that I belong with these men and that to pass this up because I’m afraid, would go against everything I’ve fought for. I’m the wild child, the risk taker that pushes everyone out of their comfort zone to experience life.

If this moment happened to one of the girls, I would tell them to go for it…

Wait, what girls am I thinking about? God, this whole memory loss thing sucks ass!

The next thing I know, Othello’s hands are on my ass, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as my back slams against the wall. All hesitation is gone, and we both devour each other, groping for the feeling of bare skin. I yank his shirt out of his pants and pull at it, trying to get it off of him. Breaking our kiss, he leans back, eyes blazing with his hunger for me, sending me into a frenzy. I grip his shirt and yank, sending all the buttons flying, not giving two shits now that I can feel him. Othello pins my hips to the wall and yanks the sweater over my head, growling as he nips at the nipple making itself known through my bra.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp as I clutch around his neck when he starts to work my jeans off of me, continuing to feast on the skin available to him.

Once my jeans and underwear are gone, Othello hoists me up higher so my legs are over his shoulders, his face in the perfect place to get to my pussy. Supporting my hips and leaning me against the wall, he laps at me like a starved lion, all but purring as he ravages me. Never have I had someone strong enough to do this to me, but it’s fucking hot and terrifying at the same time. Shifting a hand, he slips in two fingers and starts pumping them as he sucks on my clit, grazing it with his teeth and causing me to scream as an orgasm rocks through me.

“Don’t fucking stop,” I demand, trying not to move too much in case he might drop me, but shockwaves course through my body, a second orgasm charging towards the finish line. “Ah, god yes, yes, yes!”