The Love of Money II - Cover

The Love of Money II

Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch

Chapter 23: Fuck, Marry, Kill

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 23: Fuck, Marry, Kill - Marcus and the others are no longer just surviving the world—they’re shaping it. Erin has always known what she wants. Now she’s orchestrating it. Helen is learning that submission isn’t surrender. Bobbi, stripped of her old identity, stands at a crossroads. New women cross his path. Old ones return. Some hand him their heart. Some, a leash. Some, a knife in the back. And then there are the ones waiting for him to stumble. It's hard to rest when you have a target painted on your back.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Coercion   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rags To Riches   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Sadistic   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Interracial   Black Female   White Female   Oriental Female   Indian Female   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Facial   Massage   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy   Sex Toys   Squirting   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Small Breasts   Slow   Violence  

Erin blinked at me, her face going completely blank, once again sending me spiraling into that familiar abyss of not knowing what the hell she was thinking.

“Hey. Erin?”

“Date ... in what way? Like, go to dinner? A movie?”

I couldn’t tell if she was being deliberately obtuse or genuinely blindsided. With Erin, it was hard to know. But if she hadn’t picked up on how much I liked her by now, then I’d finally found the one thing she was oblivious about.

“As in ... date,” I said. “Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Finish each other’s—”

“Sandwiches?”

That made me smile. “Something like that.”

She gave me a long look ... then glanced back toward Natalie.

My stomach turned itself inside out like a pair of socks.

“What about Natalie?”

Fuck. I knew where she was going with this, and I didn’t like it.

“What about her?” I asked.

She looked back at me. “Aren’t you trying to start something with her?”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I don’t know the shape of it. And I don’t know the shape of us, either.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“This whole exclusivity thing you’ve got going on ... it sounds a lot like boyfriend privilege.”

“Hey,” Erin said, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You asked for that. I didn’t. For the record, I did say that was a little disappointing.”

I felt my heart in my throat. I knew I was being a hypocrite. Hell, most guys in my situation would want what I had—a bevy of beautiful women they didn’t have to share with anyone else unless it was with another woman. Who would turn that down?

It wasn’t like I was forcing anyone’s hand. If Erin wanted to date other men, she was more than welcome to do so.

But that would likely be the end of whatever this was between us.

“If I said I didn’t have a problem with it, would you date other men? Do you regret our agreement?”

“Do I regret our agreement?” Erin echoed, chewing on the words. She shook her head. “No. Would I date other men?”

She took too long to answer—long enough that it started to ache.

“No,” she finally said.

“Why not?” I asked, more surprised than I wanted to admit. The unreadable glances, the pushback—it made me wonder if someone else had drifted into her orbit. Someone I didn’t know about. And the quiet, irrational hatred I felt for that hypothetical suitor made one thing painfully clear: I wasn’t nearly as cool with the idea of her dating someone else as I’d pretended to be.

“I like what I do.” She glanced back toward Natalie, Tara, and the others.

Then, biting her lip, she looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said, “I haven’t had opportunities like this before ... getting to explore who I am. That’s thanks to you.”

“You weren’t sexually active before we met?” I had a hard time believing that.

“Oh,” she said, her eyebrows climbing high, “I had plenty of experience, but I had a couple of near-misses with some nasty situations and decided to be a little more careful. A lot of my adventures over the last year were limited to friends—girls, mostly. It was simpler. Less messy ... more fun.”

“I was starting to get a little itchy for some good dick when Helen reached out. I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t want something more than what I have now—but I was being honest when I said I wasn’t looking for a relationship. You gave me a safe space to play around without worrying that the guy would get jealous if I brought another woman into the bed.”

“That’s not a thing,” I snorted.

The look Erin gave me suggested I was naive. “Oh, that is very much a thing.”

“Guys get jealous over their partner sleeping with another woman?”

Erin shrugged, as if simply accepting one of life’s great mysteries. “I’ve seen it more than once.”

I glanced out into the crowd, contemplating why a guy wouldn’t enjoy having a woman bring a friend home to share with her man.

“So,” she said after a beat, “I’ll ask you again. What about her?”

I took several moments to study Natalie, taking in her beauty. My God—I had dreamed about her for so long. And now, she might actually be within reach.

“I want Natalie,” I admitted.

Looking at Erin, I met those big, beautiful eyes. Those sharp, elfin features. That big, mischievous grin.

Erin had so much personality for someone so small.

And she was insatiable.

“But I want you more.”

Erin didn’t have Helen’s poker face. Try as she might, something slipped through the mask. Her brow crinkled slightly above her nose, and her eyes shimmered a little brighter.

Despite her obvious pleasure, Erin asked a serious question. “Marcus, how would dating me change what we already have?” Every syllable sounded like she was trying to tiptoe across a minefield.

It was a good question.

If I could already sleep with whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, then what was even the point of pursuing a relationship?

Why not just remain a free agent and sate my appetites on endless women?

Emotional fulfillment?

Didn’t I already have that?

Erin’s affection had saturated me over the last two months. Helen’s devotion ... the slow erosion of Bobbi’s hatred ... even Emily’s quiet, sisterly love. It wasn’t like I was deprived.

But despite all of it ... there was a certain loneliness I couldn’t explain.

Aside from the forest, I hadn’t spent much time alone since Helen showed up two months ago ... and yet somehow, I still felt hollow.

Sure, I was sharing my life with these women, but it didn’t feel like I was establishing a home. It felt like I was building an empire. Helen, Bobbi, even Erin ... they felt more like subjects. Affectionate subjects. Loyal ones, even ... but it was still transactional.

I paid Helen. I gave her protection and made her a partner in her own firm.

Bobbi? I wouldn’t pretend there was affection there. Maybe a little, but it was hard to read through all the petulance and rage. Sometimes, though, under the surface, I saw something.

Still ... I doubt she would have given me the time of day without the protection and structure I provided.

And Erin ... even she felt transactional when I let myself think about it too long. I was her boss. I paid her a ridiculous salary. She got to say she worked for one of the most powerful men in the world, which looked good on a resume.

Plus, there were the benefits. The sex. I’d be the first to admit that I enjoyed the fruits of Erin’s hard labor—erotic adventures with beautiful women. Still, Erin seemed even more enthusiastic about it than I was. Her appetite for sex was voracious, and she enjoyed other women so much that I’d started to wonder if she might prefer them.

I hadn’t once seen her show interest in another man, except Dillon, and that had been a mindfuck aimed at Jessica.

But now ... now that she’d reminded me of our agreement, I saw it for what it was. She’d honored it so well, I’d forgotten it was even in play. She’d gone above and beyond in giving me her exclusivity.

That kind of loyalty? It made me question everything I thought I knew about what she felt for me.

She wouldn’t have cared that much if she didn’t feel something toward me.

“It would change a lot of things, Erin. You wouldn’t just be my assistant anymore. You’d be my priority.”

“And the other women?” she asked.

“I mean ... do you want to stop having sex with Helen?” I nodded toward Tara. “What about your little project?”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Erin said. “Would you stop sleeping with other women if we were dating?”

I hadn’t expected that question ... not from her.

The music started back up, as the DJ’s break was over, and there were a few cheers from the small crowd around the dance floor. Natalie and Natashya both raised their arms and whooped in joy. Tara whispered something to Natalie, who nodded, took the lesbian’s hand, and was led back toward the music. She glanced my way, saw me watching them, and waved, all smiles. It looked like she was having a good time.

“No,” I said, my eyes fixing on Natashya as she started pulling Emily back toward the dance floor. Emily draped one arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders, and they both laughed as they followed Tara and Natalie.

“I’ve seen the friction in Natashya’s relationship with my sister,” I said. “If I had to be exclusive, I could do it, but I don’t think either of us wants that.”

A small smirk played across Erin’s lips, and her eyes flashed with delight. She was suddenly letting me read her again. “Good.”

I tried to get a little more from her. “Good ... as in...”

“As in, ‘that’s good,’” she said and pointed toward the dance floor. “Because you’ve been throwing yourself at a girl who’s probably expecting something from you soon.”

Fuck.

Had I fucked up?

Lost in the moment, I started a serious conversation about how I’d like to date her while actively trying to woo someone else. Erin never showed signs of any serious jealousy, but trying to be romantic with her in a moment like this had to be monumentally bad timing, no matter who the girl was.

“Erin,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“No!” Erin said, suddenly looking concerned. “No! That’s not ... I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean...”

For the first time, Erin looked completely unsure and flat-footed. It was cute.

“I mean that if there was going to be anything between us, we should probably go on a proper date. I know that there’s nothing conventional about this, but...”

Those big brown eyes could have asked me for the Grand Canyon, and I would have bought it for her.

“I’d like to go on a regular date with you,” she said. “Not as the boss and his assistant, but just as us—Marcus and Erin.”

“Yeah,” I said, suddenly feeling on top of the world ... like that night in Paris. “I’d like that too.”

“But,” she said, turning her attention back to the dance floor, “If you want anything to happen with us, you need to figure out what to do with her.”

She meant Natalie.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want her to be your girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Something Platonic?”

The idea of having Natalie and Erin as my girlfriends seemed appealing, but I could also see the potential for problems. I was pretty sure Erin would be free of any sort of jealousy, but Natalie...

“Marry her, kill her,” Erin said, “do whatever you want.”

Wait... kill her?

“But if you do want to go on a date with me, I have one stipulation.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“You have to fuck her brains out.”

“Just so I’m clear,” I said, “in order to go out with you, I have to fuck Natalie.”

Erin snorted. “You make it sound like I just gave you some kind of Herculean task. Her panties are practically soaking. I can smell the pheromones.”

“But why do you want me to fuck Natalie before you agree to go out on a date with me?”

“Because I need you to get her out of your system, at the very least,” Erin said. “You’ve had Natalie-shaped sparkles in your eyes since we met.”

“That’s not entirely true,” I said.

“Yeah,” Erin said. “It wasn’t as bad in Europe, but every time she texted or someone brought her up in conversation—”

“That was a handful of times,” I said defensively.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that many,” Erin admitted, “But it put a damper on our fun for at least an hour. I want you to experience her at least once so she’s no longer the one that got away.”

Erin stepped a little closer, placing a hand on my chest as she chewed on her bottom lip. She had the look of a tiny succubus who could easily eat me for breakfast. “Or, alternatively, I want a promise that she’ll be more involved in our lives and eventually between my legs.”

I swallowed. Hard.

Placing my hand over the smaller one resting on my chest, I curled my fingers around hers and gave a gentle squeeze. She gave me that cocky, challenging look—eyes dancing—then squeezed back, her dark fingernails dragging lightly across my shirt.

“So,” I said. “That’s what I have to do to win a date with you? Sleep with another woman?”

She cocked her head, jaw tilted in playful thought. “Not just any woman.” She nodded toward the dance floor. “That woman.”

What an incredibly Erin thing to do.

I grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

Erin’s smile widened, gleaming. “All right then. How about you get out there and woo that damsel!”

“A kiss for good luck?”

“What if she sees? Don’t you think that might hurt your chances?” She smirked. “Eye on the prize, Upton.”

I looked around. Erin had a point. But I wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Natalie looked distracted, weaving in and out of the dancers with Tara close at her side.

“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing Erin’s hand and dragging her toward the edge of the garden.

“Excuse me!” Erin protested, mock offended. “I believe the girl is that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction.

Ignoring her, I pulled her just past the brush, tucked us behind enough greenery that we were mostly hidden from the rooftop.

Then I turned to face her, wrapping an arm around her tiny waist and pulling her tight against me. Her hands pressed to my chest, and she looked up at me with those big brown eyes. A small gasp escaped her parted lips. Her tongue flicked out to wet them. She looked so vulnerable.

Before she could say anything—before the snark could surface—I crashed my mouth onto hers, filling it with my tongue.

Her hands slid to my biceps, kneading with delicate fingers. I felt her nails digging through the fabric of my shirt. Her lips closed around my tongue, sucking on it. She moaned into the kiss, her mouth vibrating with want. I could feel it ... recognize it ... because I was burning, too.

I wanted her.

I’d had her—so many times—but the need never faded.

It was her size. So small in my arms. I could wrap my hands around her waist. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. I wanted to throw her down right there and take her.

It was the way she kissed—wet, hungry, enthusiastic. Very French. Her tongue circled mine, coaxing and massaging it. It reminded me of all the wicked things she could do with something else in her mouth.

It was her beauty. God, this girl was stunning. Those liquid brown eyes could pull anything out of me. That silver hair contrasting with her bronzed skin. Her lips—just pouty enough to be addictive. Plush and sinful. Her fine, elfin features could shift from girl-next-door to femme fatale in a blink.

Erin wasn’t just a woman.

Erin was the woman.

My hand slid from her waist to her ass. I grabbed it and squeezed, kneading that perky little rear with all the enthusiasm I could summon.

Erin pressed her hips into mine, moaning into the kiss. Her teeth raked across my lip as her right hand slid up my arm and into my hair.

I could take her to my room right now ... for the rest of the night.

Fuck Natalie.

Fuck everyone else.

A throat cleared behind us.

We broke apart like we’d been hit by lightning. Erin gasped, instinctively covering her chest with one hand in a reflex of modesty I hadn’t expected from her.

Henry Psalter stood roughly five feet away from us, holding a small plate of finger food in one hand and a beer in the other.

“I have to ask,” he said, pointing between the two of us. “Is this the employer giving a bonus ... or the employee going above and beyond?”

I blinked.

It took me several seconds to process what he’d just said.

Erin and I looked at each other. She looked just as confused as I felt.

Psalter smiled. I could see a flicker of regret in his expression.

“Apologies,” he said, raising the beer in his hand. “One too many of these, I’m afraid.”

“I didn’t know you were up here,” I said, still trying to decide whether I should be amused or annoyed by his question.

“I hope that’s all right. Gleaning information from Ryo Tanaka can engender quite the appetite.”

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s fine.”

Psalter popped the rest of a half-eaten pinwheel into his mouth and chewed as we watched.

“To tell you the truth,” he said, after swallowing, “refreshment was the secondary reason for coming to your rooftop. I thought you ought to know—we’ve located James and Nate Lucas.”

“Already?” I asked.

“You doubt my ability, Mr. Upton?” he asked with an arched brow.

“No,” I replied, distracted by the implications of Jim being found. “It’s just ... with Roger VanCamp still on the loose...”

And then I realized I’d actually insulted his skills this time.

“Well,” he said, looking less offended than genuinely impressed, “I could take offense to that.”

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right, Mr. Upton. I suppose I had it coming after my catty comment upon arriving. What would you like us to do about Jim and Nate?”

“Where are they?” Erin asked.

“Sioux Falls.”

 
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