The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 37: Message Sent
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 37: Message Sent - 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
Saturday, September 21st, 7:02 am
I opened my eyes and saw nothing but darkness.
I blinked. Darkness.
Again. Still the same.
I stretched out to my right, searching for anything to tell me where I was. My fingers brushed over nothing but a sea of silk.
Where the hell was I?
What had I been doing?
Brown leather? Soft kisses.
Erin.
My eyes burned as I closed them and pressed my fingers to my lids. A headache flared to life, but for some reason, it felt like it should have been worse. I almost felt normal.
It all started coming back to me: the drinking, the making out, the sex with Erin in my study.
I reached to my left, feeling more silk beneath my fingertips, and then the warmth of skin. Soft. My fingers trailed down the gentle contours of a feminine back lying beside me.
A light, contented hum cut through the darkness, responding to my touch.
I rolled away from the body and stretched, reaching again, trying to find the edge of what was obviously my bed and the nightstand where my phone probably was. Sure enough, my fingers met hard edges and glass. My phone lit up instantly, flooding my vision with a harsh glow.
I blinked rapidly and squinted, trying to tame the sudden brightness. My dull headache protested at the intrusion, but I’d seen enough to know I was in my room and that it was 7:05 in the morning.
Saturday.
I must’ve blacked out and been carried here.
Embarrassment clawed at my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing three or four women hauling my drunk ass to bed, and with each passing moment, it only got worse. I suddenly remembered why I’d gotten drunk in the first place.
Hiro Tanaka. Sashiko Tanaka. European banks. Tokyo real estate. Interpol and the SEC. Thousands of lives ruined. Billions lost...
I opened my newsfeed and immediately wished I hadn’t.
“Fuck. Kill me,” I whispered.
‘IMF Emergency Meeting Called—Fears of Currency Manipulation Surface.’
‘Tourism Craters Overnight: European Travel Sector Bleeds $4.3B in 48 Hours.’
‘Cryptocurrency Surges as Fiat Confidence Wavers—’Digital Gold Rush’ Begins.’
‘Rumors of Insider Immunity: Which Hedge Funds Knew Before the Plunge?’
‘Anonymous Source Says Cyberintelligence Links Back to Japan.’
‘Flash Crash or Financial Warfare? Investigators Probe Source of Friday’s Euro Dump.’
And they just kept coming...
I groaned and dropped my phone on the bed, rolling onto my back to stare at the ceiling.
This was all my fault.
No matter what Erin said—or any of them, for that matter—I was the one calling the shots. I was the one who hadn’t listened when they told me Hiro Tanaka had the experience and the fortitude to pull something like this off.
I was the one who decided not to give Carla or his son back to him. I wanted to use them as leverage—to make Hiro surrender to me. I was tired of letting my pride take the hits. I wanted a goddamn win.
Instead, I’d lost.
And it only cost me several billion dollars and the livelihoods of countless people.
I had to meet his demands.
Didn’t I?
He had won! I couldn’t compete with something like this!
I picked up my phone again, opened it, and navigated to the only number I had for Hiro. He hadn’t answered a single call or replied to a text since the day I turned him down ... but his daughter had.
You just destroyed the lives of countless people, I typed, smashing the keys like I was mad at them. I hope you die today. In the most painful way possible, so you can get to hell faster than you already are. In the meantime, you win.
My finger hovered over the send button, hesitating. I didn’t want to admit it to him.
No. It was too late. I needed to give him what he wanted. There was no other choice! Was I supposed to wait for him to nuke a third-world country full of orphans?
But I couldn’t bring myself to hit send.
You win...
I swallowed the lump in my throat and held down the backspace key until that last sentence was gone.
Instead, I typed. You have my attention. Can we talk?
I hit send and backed out. I didn’t even want to see the message get delivered.
That brought me to the ever-increasing list of unread and unanswered texts that had been building since last night. More from Mom, Dad, Dillon, Jonah ... None from Natalie, which felt a little off.
The newest one, though, was from Astrid.
Even though I never replied to a single message from her, I always opened them. I couldn’t help myself—every one of them came with a creative selfie, and as crazy as she was, Astrid was a beautiful woman.
The newest image didn’t disappoint.
She sat on the edge of her bed—the same one I’d last seen her in before leaving Norway. There wasn’t a stitch of clothing on her. Her shoulders were bare, white-blonde hair draping over them and concealing delicate breasts that barely qualified as such. Her long legs were parted, toes touching the floor in such a way that emphasized the gentle slope of her calves. A touch of makeup enhanced her porcelain beauty—a hint of mascara, a kiss of rouge, and just enough blush to give her color.
She had a wicked gleam in her eye and a half-smile that could inspire a straight nun to sin. One hand delicately rested beneath her chin.
Between her legs sat Lara—the young woman who’d massaged me my first night at Astrid’s house. Like her mistress, she wasn’t wearing a scrap of fabric. Unlike her mistress, everything was on full display.
Lara’s breasts hung freely, heavy and ripe, begging to be kissed. Her tender pink nipples were hard, capping areolas slightly wider than a quarter. Her skin was almost as fair as Astrid’s and just as flawless, contrasting beautifully with the raven-black hair twisted into a messy bun.
Her legs were parted, knees half drawn toward her chest. Between her thighs was a dark thatch of hair nestled above faint pink lips that all but disappeared in the way she sat. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could’ve sworn something glistened there.
Her fingers, tipped with blood-red nails, were elegantly long and feminine.
Astrid’s other hand cupped Lara’s chin, guiding her to look up at her mistress. It was a subtle act of gentle domination—something at odds with what I knew Astrid to be. She didn’t believe in subtlety or gentleness at all. Bobbi could attest to that.
Still, Lara’s cornflower-blue eyes stared up at the other woman with absolute adoration.
The caption beneath the image read: You didn’t get a taste last time. Come back and see me, and maybe we can both indulge.
Goddamn, Astrid knew how to take a sexy photo. Did she have a photographer on standby? It wasn’t like she could shoot them herself.
Despite everything, I reached down and squeezed my cock through my underwear. It had grown hard as I stared at the image.
“Marcus?”
I glanced to my left, at the girl sleeping next to me. I’d only gotten a fleeting look at her back earlier and had assumed it was Erin.
It wasn’t.
Rolling over to look at me was Natalie.
“Oh God! Natalie!?”
She arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “Expecting someone else?”
“I ... uh...”
Natalie shook her head and chuckled softly. “Relax. I’m just giving you a hard time.” She reached out and stroked my cheek. “How are you?”
“I...”
One moment, I was concerned that Natalie was about to hit me for assuming I had another woman in my bed. Next, she proved to be unbothered by it; instead, she was more concerned and worried about me. It was a kind of whiplash I hadn’t experienced before.
I looked up to meet her gaze—barely visible in the dim light from my phone. “Do you know what happened yesterday?”
She nodded. “Marduke was going crazy. Something to do with the European markets? It’s all they’re talking about in the news, and I’m on-call this weekend. It looks bad. Is this related to why you got wasted last night?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” My throat was dry, and that one word came out thick. I physically had to keep tears in check. “It’s my fault ... and you’re right. It’s really bad. There are already lawsuits. Interpol and the SEC are sniffing around.”
“God, Marcus ... what happened?”
I shook my head. “It’s a long fucking story.”
Natalie sat up all the way, the sheet slipping from her chest to reveal her perfectly nude body. In the dim light, her heavy breasts hung freely.
She gracefully folded her legs beneath her. “It’s Saturday. I have plenty of time ... until they call me, anyway.”
So I told her everything.
If I couldn’t trust Natalie, who could I trust?
I gave her all the gory details—the boardroom meeting, how Carla had outplayed everyone, and how that had sparked Hiro’s fury. I told her about the meeting with Ryo in Norway, set up by Astrid—how he shot us out of the air and sent his goons after me. I told her how I came back to the States with Ryo Tanaka in my pocket ... about the meeting with Sachiko Tanaka and the assassin who’d been found while we were trying to talk. I mentioned Rajesh’s visit to the party, and the threats he’d delivered through Hiro.
I didn’t leave anything out ... except for all the sex.
It didn’t feel necessary to tell her that I’d had angry sex with Carla after Hiro threatened me for something I hadn’t done. Or that I’d slept with my bodyguard while stranded in the Norwegian forest. And I sure as hell didn’t mention nearly fucking the crazy woman who had almost gotten us all killed.
Maybe I needed one of those anonymous groups for sex addicts.
Natalie listened with the patience of a saint, silent until I was completely done. “So ... the man found dead in his hotel earlier this week. He was at your party. How did he die?”
Something about her tone was off as she asked the question.
“We’re not a hundred percent sure,” I said. “But my private investigator thinks Hiro killed him for failing to get me to agree to terms.”
Something in Natalie’s shoulders relaxed, and I realized she’d been holding tension in them.
Realization hit me. “Holy shit! You thought I killed Rajesh.”
“No,” Natalie said quickly, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t think that.” She looked away for a heartbeat. “I mean ... at least ... I hoped.”
I sighed. I couldn’t really blame her. After all, she knew I’d started my relationship with Bobbi by extorting her, and I’d just told her I was holding Ryo Tanaka hostage. Neither one of those was murder, but I doubted she’d thought I was capable of kidnapping or blackmail before two months ago.
“Yeah,” I said dryly. “I guess murder would kind of be a nonstarter for us.”
Natalie gave me a look that said, Ya think?
“What about everything else?” I asked. “Are those nonstarters too?”
Natalie exhaled and looked at me. “Marcus, if it were anyone else—probably. I think even in most cases, if I found out about some of the things you’d done, I’d probably never speak to you again, but I understand why you’re holding Ryo. That’s easy enough to justify.” She chewed her lip. “Bobbi...” Her voice softened. “If she were any less of a heinous bitch...”
“You don’t ... have a problem at all?”
Natalie gave me a dangerous look. “Don’t talk me into having one. It wouldn’t be hard to do.”
I raised my hands in mock surrender.
“So,” she asked, “what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” I said, the dull pain in my head suddenly tripling from the stress. “I texted the Tanakas. I guess I’m just waiting for them to respond.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say?”
“I haven’t decided,” I admitted.
“Don’t you think you’d better do that before you get on the phone with them?”
“Of course,” I said. “I just keep changing my mind every few seconds. I want it to stop. The only way I know how is to hand over Carla and Ryo—and probably cede a lot of assets.”
I rubbed at my temple. “Then a few minutes later, I start thinking I can just hit him back—harder than he hit me. It’s not like I don’t still have resources. I just need to figure out what to do next, and then really take it to them.
“Then I start wondering ... do I just keep duking it out with him while the entire world suffers? That sounds like the most asshole thing ever. I don’t think I can do that.”
Natalie stared at me for a long moment, saying nothing. The room was quiet, lit only by the weak glow of my phone.
Finally, she said softly, “Would you be willing to give up almost everything in exchange for making sure no one else got hurt?”
“Probably. I wish I could claim it’s altruism, but it’s not just that. I’m scared, Nat. Look at what he’s already done to get to me. Look how many lives he’s ruined. What else is he willing to do if I keep pushing him?”
Natalie crawled onto her knees, slipping behind me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. Her warm skin against my back was comforting, and I leaned back into her embrace.
Her generous lips brushed my ear, nurturing and sexy at the same time.
“I know you, Marcus,” she whispered. “You’ll make the right decision. We’ll figure it out.”
“We?” I turned to look at her.
She gave me a small smile and nodded.
“With all this shit I have going on?”
Natalie grinned. “I guess I’m a sucker for red flags.”
“Honestly,” I said, “you sticking around should probably be a red flag.”
Natalie nudged my jaw with a knuckle. “Careful, buster, or I’ll change my mind.”
“Not another word,” I promised.
“One stipulation, though,” Natalie said.
“What is it?”
“Tell me who you expected to be in bed with you.”
We stared at each other for a solid fifteen seconds. Neither of us blinked.
Radical honesty...
“Erin,” I said softly.
She already knew I had other relationships, even if we hadn’t gone into detail. Still, saying it out loud in front of her ... it felt strange.
Natalie nodded, her poker face flawless.
“It’s not too late to back out,” I said.
“I want to ask who’s better,” Natalie murmured, tension thick in her voice.
“It doesn’t work like that,” I said. “You’re all different. Unique. Special.”
An unspoken question flickered in her eyes, but she didn’t voice it.
Instead, her hand slid off my shoulder, down my chest, until her fingertips brushed the fabric stretched tight across my prick.
“Is this me?” she asked, voice low and husky.
I decided to let her have the credit. Astrid certainly didn’t deserve it.
“Yeah.”
Her generous lips molded to mine as we shared a molten kiss, tongue snaking into my mouth. Our breaths quickened, mingling as I twisted in her arms and wrapped my arms around her waist. We tumbled to the side, our heads landing dangerously close to the edge of the bed without breaking our kiss.
My hands eagerly explored her body, and I realized that she was already completely nude—not even any panties. She gasped into my mouth as I reached behind her, grabbed a handful of her prodigious ass, and gave it a firm squeeze as I pulled her against me. Her arms tightened around my neck.
She broke the kiss, breathing heavily, as I could barely see her eyes searching my face in the near dark.
“Fuck me,” she whispered.
I nodded, hooked my fingers in my underwear, and pulled it down just enough to expose my hard cock.
One graceful leg bent at the knee as Natalie slid her foot up the sheets, granting me access to the treasure between her thighs. I wrapped my fingers around my throbbing girth and directed myself until I felt the head press against something warm and wet. It had been two days since I last touched her like this, but it felt even longer. Perhaps it was because I had wanted her for so long, and being away for any length of time made me ache. Maybe it was that she was so supportive and understanding, even when she shouldn’t have been.
Whatever the reason, as I rolled my hips forward and sank inside of her, it felt like coming home in a very special way. Natalie’s eyes went wide as I invaded her, feeling her wet canal envelope me like a tight glove. Her lips trembled.
Then my phone went dark.
Still clinging to her, I began to work myself in and out. Without being able to see, I kissed whatever my lips brushed against—the side of her nose, her eyelid, her chin, her lips...
She did the same.
Then she slid a hand to my cheek, and even though we couldn’t see each other’s faces anymore, I could feel her gaze boring into me.
“I’ll forgive you this one time, Marcus,” she breathed. “But don’t lie to me again. I want to see the picture after we’re through.”
I pressed my lips to hers and nodded. I didn’t deserve this woman—I didn’t deserve any of them.
Saturday, September 21st, 9:55 am
“Keep your eyes on me.”
My gaze snapped back to Tara, trying my best to ignore all the other people in the room.
It was difficult to concentrate when we had an audience—doubly so when that audience was helping you deal with a global catastrophe that you had a hand in creating.
At least Tara was easy to focus on. She stood just out of reach, clad in a dark yellow tank top that molded itself to her body, accentuating the subtle curves of her breasts and showcasing beautiful bronze abs that rippled slightly with every movement. A pair of skimpy nylon shorts sculpted her perfect, sculpted ass and left plenty of tanned, toned thighs visible for my eyes to feast on. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail; wisps had escaped due to the last twenty minutes of sparring, giving her an alluring, slightly disheveled appearance.
Tara had an impressive physique, sculpted from God’s finest materials, that highlighted both her strength and femininity. Her face was stunning, probably breaking more hearts than I could ever know...
The only problem was—she wasn’t interested in what I had to offer. Someone like Natalie or Erin was more her speed.
God ... sometimes life can be totally unfair.
Said the man with the harem.
Something about my posture, or perhaps the way I was staring hungrily at her abs, must’ve given me away. She suddenly lunged at me while I was still half in thought.
Unlike the last four times we sparred, I was ready for her. I sidestepped, missing a knee to my midsection, and dropped my hand just in time to avoid taking a fist to my ribs.
Usually, I would have stepped back to remove myself from any follow-up attacks, but this time I slid my foot between hers, hooked it around one of her ankles, and tried to pull.
Tara managed to recover before stumbling to the ground, turning her recovery into a graceful follow-up attack, delivering a roundhouse kick to my head.
I managed to bring my forearm up just in time to block, flinging the offending foot away from me and then stepping out of her range of attack.
Instead of following me, Tara backed up a couple of feet and said, “Good! That was a first! You’re getting better at countering.” She smiled at me. “You’re improving.”
“Thanks,” I said. I glanced at Natashya, who tossed me a towel. I caught it and scrubbed the sweat off my face. “Given enough time, I’m bound to get at least a little better.”
“Glad you have so much faith in me,” Tara said dryly.
“Honestly, I’m impressed you’ve gotten me this far,” I replied. “I was never much of an athlete, and I don’t think my reactions or reflexes will ever be to your level.”
“Wouldn’t think it to look at you,” Tara said, giving me an appreciative once-over—the first time she’d ever approached flirtation with me.
The sound of Helen clearing her throat interrupted me before I had the chance to respond.