Scene II
SCENE II
OTHELLO
" I tried calling you, but you didn't answer."
Othello pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't believe Iago had shown up at his home to ruin what was going to be the best after-breakfast fuck to talk to him about the asshat, Roderigo.
"Did you really have to do that to him?" Iago said.
Othello glared at his brother. "I simply gave him the same lesson he was trying to give to Lucy. Maybe next time he enters my establishment, he'll remember the damn rules."
"Why are you bothered if he smacks up some whore?" Iago snapped.
"Don't call her that," Othello growled. "Lucy makes me more money in one hour just smiling at the clients than anyone else in that club."
"Your defense of her makes it sound like you have feelings for her," Iago said in a calmer voice.
"And you're overthinking things, as always. Lucy and I are strictly professional." It was so professional that Othello considered giving her a managerial position. Lucy was much more than an escort. She kept all the others in line when he wasn't around. It was time he gave her a glow-up. It would help her and her five-year-old son.
"Speaking of which, when are you going to give him back his club? Haven't you done more than enough?"
Othello tsked and shook his head. "You know, Iago, sometimes I wonder whose brother you are, mine or his?"
"Yours, of course."
"Then why the fuck are you here being an attorney for him? He lost it fair and square. Hell, the club wasn't even in his name but his dear old dad, who was happy to sign the deed away to me. He better be grateful I haven't banned him from the place."
"Come on, O, don't do this," Iago said. "The Mirage means a lot to him."
"Yeah, well, it means the whole world to me, Iago. Now, if that's all you came here to talk to me about, leave. I took a couple of days off for a reason."
"I heard, and I'm surprised, so I wanted to check and make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine," Othello said, feeling quite annoyed by his brother.
"You're awful grumpy. Maybe you should really find someone to take the edge off."
What the fuck did you think I was about to do when you knocked on my fucking door? Hopefully, Des isn't paying attention to this conversation.
"Maybe you should have one of the escorts from the club come over and?—"
"Enough," Othell said, cutting him off. "I don't need an escort. When I'm ready to date again, I will, so back off."
Iago was silent again, and Des thought he would drop the subject and leave. "I'm worried about you, O. Hell, we all are. Don't let the clan be your life. We all need companionship. I know what happened with Phillip years ago is still with you, but he was a bastard. I would kick his ass if I could."
"Yeah, well, he went missing, and no one can find him to stomp him into the ground," Othello said, feeling his irritation slip away. "Look, I know you all mean well, but I'm fine."
Iago nodded, then grabbed him by the back of the neck, bringing him close and pressing their foreheads together; their eyes locked on each other, and Othello could see worry looking back at him. "I love you, little bro."
"Love you, too." Othello held Iago's head. "Now go. I'm tired, and I want to rest. You tire me the hell out."
They both chuckled, breaking their contact. "Alright. I would stay and have lunch with you, but Emilia has a doctor's appointment. Then I'm taking her ring shopping."
"I want to say make sure the diamond is big enough to see from Mars, but I know my soon-to-be sister-in-law isn't the flashy type, so just make her happy.."
"I will."
Othello walked Iago to the door and saw him off before going to the bedroom and spotting the doctor fast asleep on the chair by the window. Othello knelt next to the chair and stared at Des as the man's question returned to him.
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
Othello hadn’t been expecting the question, but for some reason, he didn't think he could lie to Des, which was why he’d told him the truth about being a part of a mafia organization. Othello had done much since being a minor and major player in the family, and it was hard to let an enemy walk away. But he was not above torturing them for fun. The things he'd done, they’d wished they were dead, fulfilling his blood vow to the family. Othello preferred torture and letting the person live in regret for their misdeeds against him and his family.
Looking at Des, he smiled. The man really surprised him with how easily he accepted everything. He had a good heart, and maybe Othello shouldn't have taken things further, but he didn't want to end things. He felt the doctor was good for not only healing his body but also his heart. Or Des could be right, and he was romanticizing things. Iago had been right. He'd held on to Phillip for so long he didn't want to let anyone else in.
Yet, here he was, opening the door to his heart for someone to either love him or hate him. Othello might have a tough exterior, but deep down, he was like any man looking for companionship and affection. It didn't have to be love. Just someone to hold in his arms while he fell asleep. Othello knew he shouldn't be starting a relationship because things were so tense in his and other clans, and he could be putting Des in danger. Othello began formulating a plan to protect Des without impeding his personal life. Standing, he picked up Des, walked with him, and laid him on the bed. Covering him up, he kissed him on the forehead.
I guess fucking you hard will have to wait until later.
Chuckling, he walked out of the bedroom and cleaned up the breakfast dishes that he had chucked in the sink before opening the door. After cleaning up, he headed up the stairs to the part of his apartment that doubled as his office and gym. Although he hadn't planned on getting any work done today, he figured since he had time, he might as well look through the paperwork he had been putting to the side for a while.
Des groaned, rolling, then opened his eyes, and felt a sense of déjà vu staring up at the ceiling of Othello's apartment. He recalled what had happened earlier and realized he must have fallen asleep while waiting for Othello. He had heard some of their conversation but had no clue what Othello and his guest were talking about. Since he woke up in bed, the other man must have put him there.
Sitting up, he looked to the other side of the bed and found it empty. Getting out of bed, he searched for his man. He smiled at his thoughts when he walked into the living room but was disappointed when no one was there. Seconds later, he heard a thumping sound in rapid succession coming from upstairs.
Des headed up the stairs, and the noise grew louder. Then, he saw Othello's form standing before a standing body bag, hitting it hard. He was shirtless, drenched in sweat, with muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back popping with every powerful hit on the bag that trembled as if it was going to fall apart. Des bit his bottom lip, unable to take his eyes off the sexy-as-fuck man who had no idea he had an audience.
After a few minutes, Othello stopped and took off his gloves. Seeing the towel hanging on the rail, Des grabbed it and walked over to Othello, who had just turned around. His panting breath tickled Des's cheek. Neither spoke as Des reached up and patted the towel on Othello's face, their eyes still locked on each other. Why does he smell so good? Othello leaned down and brushed their lips together but took their connection no further. Othello took the towel and started wiping himself off.
"Did you enjoy your nap?"
"Hmm..." Des nodded. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"You looked tired, so I let you sleep." He smiled.
"It's not fair. You took the day off to spend with me, and I fell asleep."
"The day's not over yet."
Des moved closer, wrapping his arms around Othello, not caring that he was still a bit sweaty. "What do you have in mind?"
"How about after I shower, we go out for a bit? I think that now that we're together, I should truly wine and dine you."
"You weren't doing that before?"
Othello grasped Des's waist lightly. "Yeah, but this time it's different."
Des smiled, getting Othello's meaning. "Okay," he agreed, then a thought occurred to him. He didn't want to wear what he had worn yesterday.
"What's with that look?" Othello asked, getting his attention.
"If we're going out, I will need something to wear. I doubt jeans and a T-shirt are what you had in mind."
Othello leaned down for a kiss. "I took care of that while you were sleeping. I had my personal shopper grab a few things for you."
Des quirked a brow. "Personal shopper. Huh, it just occurred to me I have a rich boyfriend."
"You better believe it."
Des shook his head. "And not modest at all. But I like your cocky swagger, so I think you deserve a reward."
"Is that so?" he said.
"Yes. I'm feeling very sweaty." He stepped out of Othello's arms and removed the shirt, dropping it to the floor, turning, and walking to the steps. "Want to join me in the shower?"
Othello smirked, and the look in his eyes scared and excited Des. It was the expression of a predator who had trapped its prey. "I thought you would never ask," he said.
Othello stepped forward, and Des had the bright idea to run from the big, hungry wolf who wanted to eat him. He shivered in sweet anticipation, knowing that by the end of the night, Othello would have him any way he wanted.
Des gasped when his back hit the shower wall. He tilted his head back, and Othello licked, sucked, and kissed from his neck down to his nipples as his fingers pinched and tweaked the other one. Gasping, he grasped some of Othello's wet hair, pulled his head back, captured his mouth, and kissed him hard and needily.
Othello circled his arms around Des's waist, flipping them around. He moaned against his mouth, loving the hot kiss as well as the water beating down on his back. He pulled back and stared into Othello's eyes.
"You know, last night, I think I gave you a terrible impression of me," Des said, reaching down to press and rub on Othello's erection.
"Yeah, about what?" Othello cupped the back of his head, brushing his lips against Des's, moaning when he lightly pinched the head of his cock.
"I know I can pleasure you with my hands, but—" Slowly, Des went to his knees, putting his face to Othello's hard dick. "—I want to be able to do the same with my mouth." He looked up at Othello, rubbing his lips and then swirling his tongue around the head of his shaft. "Better yet, teach me how to make you cum. I want you to use my mouth however you please."
Othello stared at him, rubbing his thumb on his cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Othello said nothing for what seemed like minutes, turning into hours.
"No matter what happens, you're not allowed to touch your cock. Can you do that?"
"Yes, I can."
"If it gets to be too much, pinch my ass and I'll stop."
Des smiled and nodded, knowing that no matter what Othello did, he wouldn't stop him.
"Open your mouth and suck me inside."
Des grasped Othello's shaft, jerking him gently, and moved forward, opening his mouth and circling his lips around the head.
Othello gasped. "Take me in a little bit at a time, pulling back each time," he instructed, his voice hoarse but gentle. His hand was on the back of Des's head, guiding his movements.
His hand and mouth met as he sucked and jerked Othello's shaft, feeling the man move his hips, and his fingers tightened on his head.
"Fuck, your mouth feels so damn good," he moaned. "Give me a little teeth, baby."
Des moaned, releasing Othello's cock, pressing his hands to the man's thighs, and sucking him down as far as he could go. He loved the feel of Othello's erection in his mouth and made a plan to suck his man at least once a day.
He pulled back lightly, dragging his teeth along the veined, thick, and heavy shaft, swirling his tongue at the tip, lapping up the precum. Des could not help the groan that escaped his lips, but Othello's reaction made him want to do more. Suck him until he was weak and begging to cum. Des's hard cock twitched at the thought.
"Fuck, yeah," Othello growled. "Shit, baby, gonna cum."
Des reached up and cupped Othello's balls, tugging them gently as he sucked a little harder, adding some teeth but not enough to hurt. Othello moaned and grabbed his head, moving in and out of Des' mouth.
He circled Othello's legs, sucking his dick down, and it hit the back of his throat, surprising him, and for a second, he wanted to throw up but heard Othello growl as he shoved his hard pulsing cock down his throat, gagging him. Tears mixed with water streaming down his cheeks. His chest burned, and that was when he remembered to breathe, just as Othello pulled back and pushed in again.
Othello fucked his mouth hard and rough, and it made Des's cock grow painfully hard, and he wanted, no, he needed to touch himself. Still, he remembered Othello's words and focused on pleasuring the man who was ramming his cock in and out of his mouth, growling his name, cumming down his throat.
Des greedily drank Othello's cum, loving the taste of his masculinity, his strength, and his dominance that was claiming him inside and out. Othello pulled his cock out of Des's mouth, and before he could catch his breath, his mouth was captured.
Othello's tongue swept into his mouth, taking and tasting everything Des had drunk from him. He moaned, bucking his hips when Othello'grasped his cock. It only took a few strokes, and Des came into Othello's hand with his lover's name on his lips. Panting heavily, he sagged against the larger man's body, smiling in satisfaction with Othello's deep voice rumbling in his ear.
"Well done, Tesoro."
"Taste this," Des said, bringing his fork to his mouth.
He smiled when Othello hummed in appreciation. Des loved that Othello was a foodie like him. It ruined the mood to eat with a picky eater. Othello had taken him to Ouro e Vinho, which meant “gold and wine,” a Portuguese restaurant with a mile-long waiting list. It had a magnificent city view on the forty-fifth floor of the Celeste Grand Plaza. Des was curious to know how Othello had gotten a reservation when not even his father, the good doctor David Ellington, could get a reservation on the fly.
Ouro e Vinho was quite elegant, and a suit and tie were necessary. Not only that, the owners prided themselves on keeping their guests' privacy since many politicians, celebrities, and bigwigs frequented the establishment. The ambiance was romantic and exuded sophistication, with marble floors and gold accents. Soft, warm lighting cast a gentle glow throughout the restaurant, aiding the romantic atmosphere of the lit candles on the table flickering off the clear wine glasses.
He and Othello were seated next to each other. Des did not want to sit across from him. He wouldn't deny feeling clingy toward Othello and hoped it didn't scare him off. He felt like this was a dream, and if he blinked too quickly, he would wake up stuck in a job he hated and alone. But it wasn't his imagination, and Othello Moor was the one to set this all up, which made him a little giddy.
"You impress me, Mister Moor," Des said.
"Really?" Othello put his utensils down. "What exactly did I do to earn your favor?"
"Everything." Des leaned closer, brushing their lips together. When he pulled back, he noticed Othello staring at something other than him, with his brows furrowed. Although he felt slightly jealous, he couldn't hide his curiosity. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew."
"Must be someone important if they pulled your attention away from me."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous." Othello smiled.
Des scoffed, turning away from Othello's penetrating but playful gaze. "You're reading into things.”
"Is that so?" he said, gently pinching Des's chin. Turning his face to his, Othello kissed his mouth before he could say anything. Des wrapped his arms around Othello's neck, deepening their kiss. Their lips slowly separated, and Des opened his eyes. "No one is more important than you right now." Othello pecked him on his lips. "Finish your meal."
"Underboss Moor, it's good to see you."
Des felt Othello stiffen and watched him place a smile on his lips that he knew wasn't real. Othello looked away from Des and faced not one but two men standing in front of their table. Othello stood and greeted them.
"Boss Antonio Greco, Underboss Cassio Ricci, it has been a while."
Des silently watched Othello ball his hands into fists as he put them in his pockets. A tense aura enveloped the three men, and Des wasn't sure if he should speak up. He should have felt offended for not being introduced, but he didn't mind with how the men glared at each other.
"I heard that you were injured some time ago, but I see that you're doing fine," Cassio said to Othello, but his eyes strayed to Des.
"Well, you should know I'm a hard man to kill," Othello said, shifting slightly to the side, blocking their view of Des.
When he made the reservation, he knew there was a chance he'd bump into someone from his world, but he wasn't expecting it to be a big boss. Most men trembled and stuttered in the presence of Boss Greco, but Othello wished he could shoot the man square in his face. Fuck, I sound homicidal. But he couldn't help it. Since his shooting, he'd thought over the events and concluded that the only forces that could have gotten away with what happened that night had to do with Greco and Ricci. Othello knew the two clans worked together as one, seeing that Cassio was their most trusted advisor. He just needed to find out who was working with them.
"We received an invitation to your boss's anniversary party. My wife and I look forward to being there," Greco said. "Unfortunately, Don Ricci will not be able to make it."
"My parents," he stressed. "We’ll be sad Don Ricci won't be there, but with you there, I'm certain it will still be a happy event, Boss Greco. I'm sure my father cannot wait to sit and talk about the old days with you."
"Ah, the old days when people knew their place. It’s a shame some animals feel they are superior when they should be groveling at the feet of those of higher standing. Don’t you think, Moor? " Greco chuckled as if he’d said something funny, but Othello knew damn well what his words meant. Maybe the man was hoping for him to react, but he wouldn't give the old fucker the benefit. The day would come when he’d wipe the smug smile off his face.
"Yes, I agree," Othello said, staring Greco dead in his eyes. "The old should stay in their place and let more intelligent people run the show. Don't you think, Boss Greco?"
Othello smirked when the smile fell off the fucker's face.
"Why you—" Greco started no doubt to spout something insulting, hoping to bring Othello down a peg, but his underboss interrupted him.
"Don Greco, our table is ready."
Greco scowled, then walked away rudely. Othello's eyes stayed on the man, plotting his sweet death.
"You're playing with fire, Moor," Cassio growled.
"I didn't light the match, Cassio," he told the man whose gaze kept straying to Des. The last man Othello had given his heart had also been sleeping with Cassio; he wouldn't let that happen again. "Keep staring, and I will pluck them out."
Cassio snapped his eyes away from Des and looked at Othello, seeing he wasn't joking. “Don’t act like a barbarian, Moor. You’re in a civilized society. At least pretend like you have manners.” Tsking, Cassio walked away, just as rude as his boss. Othello watched to make sure both men disappeared to wherever their table was before he sat back down next to Des. He despised them just as they did him. Othello was counting the days until he could make those two men and others who thought like them beg for mercy.
"Are you okay?" Des asked, touching his shoulder.
"I'm fine." Othello turned to him, offering a real smile.
"I don't know what that was all about, but it was pretty intense."
"Don't let them bother you," he said, not letting his conversation with the two older men ruin the mood. But then, a thought came to Othello. He didn't like the way Cassio was looking at Des. "If any of them approach you, don't entertain them."
"Why would they want to talk to me? I'm a nobody in all of this."
"Being connected to me makes you somebody, Des. They are dangerous men and will use you to get to me."
Des stared at him, then nodded. "I will listen to what you say."
"Good." He smiled. "Now, let's finish our meal; there's somewhere I want to take you."
Des hummed and leaned closer to him. "Really? Where are you taking me?"
"It's a surprise." Othello chuckled.
"You're no fun." He pouted.
"You weren't saying that earlier." He moved his lips closer to Des's ear. "I think your exact words were, ‘Othello, please, make me cum. Don't stop…’”
"Alright, enough," Des snapped.
He leaned back, laughing at Des's red ears and face. Othello leaned in and kissed him on his neck. "I'm sorry, baby. I won't tease you anymore."
Des turned his face to his. "Yes, you will. You love messing with me."
"I do because you make it easy. But it's one of the things I find enduring about you."
"You're telling the truth, aren't you?"
"I am."
Des smiled. "Okay, I forgive you." He leaned in and kissed Othello before returning to his meal.
Des couldn't remove the smile from his face as he walked around. This was indeed a pleasant surprise. Othello continued to impress him that night and arranged for him to view and purchase rare art, books, and other things that might catch his eye. He knew there would be an auction at the end of the year, but it was only by invitation. Des wasn't notable enough to get an invitation. So he was surprised to get this close, but who knew his new boyfriend was in charge of organizing the auction and got to see all the products before anyone else?
"If you see something you like, let Devin know, and he'll take care of it," Othello told him.
"Are you sure?" Des asked.
"Yes," Othello responded.
"What if I want the most expensive thing on the bidding block?"
"It's yours." Othello shrugged.
"You're being far too kind to me." Des smiled.
"I told you things are different now that we're together."
"I like this new phase between us." He leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you."
Othello grabbed his waist and pulled him close. Des moaned when Othello swept his tongue into his mouth, deepening their kiss and making him shiver all over. Des grasped Othello's jacket, wanting more. Slowly, their mouths separated, and Des opened his eyes as he tried calming his breathing and rapidly beating heart.
"I feel a bit ungrateful," Des said.
"Why?"
"Because you planned all of this for me, and the artist in me wants to take advantage of this wonderful moment, but right now, all I want is to go back to your place and have you make love to me."
Othello smirked devilishly. "Devin."
"Yes, sir."
Des's eyes widened when the auction curator appeared out of nowhere as if by magic or something. "Is everything prepared?"
"Yes."
"Good. Send everyone home. I'll take care of Mr. Ellington's needs."
Devin bowed like a butler he'd seen on television. "As you wish." He turned on his heel and walked off, leaving them alone.
Othello stepped back and took his hand. "Come on, let's look around."
"But," Des started but stopped when they walked toward a beautiful picture that should have captivated him, but he didn't care. He was confused about why Othello wasn't dragging him out of the place and taking him. They went from one picture to another, yet none caught his attention.
"What do you think of this one?" Othello asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"It's okay," he said softly with his head down. He knew he was pouting, but he didn't care. He wanted to go home and have Othello take his mind and body to a new place, but he seemed more interested in the artwork on the walls. Why send home the staff if they weren't leaving as well? As an artist, he should’ve been over the moon at all he got to see, but how can he?
He heard Othello chuckle, and Des wanted to smack the taller man. "I don't think you're paying attention," Othello whispered in his ear.
"Of course I'm paying atten..." Des raised his head and gasped mid-sentence when he saw the antique four-poster bed intricately designed, with a mahogany wood frame adorned with gold leaves from the canopy to the bottom. "Wow, this is gorgeous. It looks like something out of the 1600s, flashy but not as tasteless as one would imagine." Stepping away from Othello, he moved to the bed, lightly threaded his fingers through the thick red-and-gold drapes, then to the headboard with a more detailed design with what resembled a coat of arms. He brushed his fingers against the neatly made white silk sheets. He was surprised when he pressed into bed. It wasn't hard, but it was a soft plush mattress that seemed to be made for a king or queen.
"Gods, this is beautiful," he whispered, stepping back from the bed and taking in the rest of the room, which he'd just noticed was surrounded by red roses and candles of all sizes lighting the room, aided by the full moon seeping in from the window. On a gold ornate end table were two glasses and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice. It was so romantic, perfect for a night of lovemaking. Then, a thought came to Des.
Could all this be for me? For us? He had it all planned. He messed with me again by dragging me around the auction house, leaving this room for last.
Des had to admit it was romantic and couldn't get mad at the other man. A smile crossed his lips, but he hid it as he turned to face Othello. "Will this be auctioned off?"
Othello smirked as if seeing through Des but not calling him out. "You're right, it is gorgeous. The frame hails from Italy and was once owned by some royal noble. When we got it, it was pretty banged up. My people refurbished it, maintaining all the original aspects. But auctioning it depends on you."
"Me? What do I have to do with your decision?"
Othello moved closer to Des and pulled him into his arms. Des moaned, unable to mask his response, melting against the man's larger frame. "Because once I make love to you in this bed, it will become ours." He leaned in and captured Des's lips with a kiss that made his knees weak. His tongue did things to his mouth as if he had a G-spot that led right to his cock that was already hard. Before their kiss got deeper, Othello pulled back, and only their panting could be heard in the silence of the room.
"Fuck," Othello said, his voice husky and deep. His fingers dug into Des's waist as if he was holding himself back.
"Is that what you plan on doing?" Des opened his eyes, wrapping his arms around Othello's neck.
"You are driving me crazy, Tesoro."
Des smiled at the endearment, leaned up, and brushed his lips against Othello's."Then let's go insane together." Their mouths met, and Othello picked him up and carried him to the bed. Without taking a breath or separating from their kiss, Des reached between them and tried to unbutton Othello's shirt, or at least he tried to.
Growling in frustration, he ripped the garment open. Hearing the tearing of fabric and the popping of buttons brought more joy to him than it should have. Othello pressed his weight on top of Des, holding him tightly in his arms, pulling a deep moan from him, feeling the man's heated skin even through his own clothes, making him feverish and needy. Othello flipped them over, and Des sat up, straddling his hips.
For the second time that day, he enjoyed seeing the look of lust in Othello's light amber eyes, which became darker the more aroused he got. Being on top of Othello made Des feel in control of the man's pleasure. To prove it, he wound his hips, grounding his ass on the hard cock, making the man underneath him groan and grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a searing kiss that had his lips burning as if he were scorched by fire, but it left Des wanting more.