The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 60
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 60 - 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
Sunday, October 13th, 8:10 am
Something brushed my face.
Then I felt the rough, warm swipe of a tongue across my nose.
And again.
A soft rumble reached my ears, filling me with a sense of familiarity and comfort that my half-dead brain recognized before the rest of me caught up.
Then came more licking.
Blinking my eyes open, I immediately saw the grey-and-white pattern of my cat in my face, staring at me with an intensity that could only mean one thing.
Feed me.
He opened his mouth and let out one of his silent meows, which was one of his little habits. He only made noise when he was pissed. That meant his hunger meter hadn’t hit red yet.
I lifted my head and looked around, confused for a minute about where I was.
At first, I had no idea. I could have been at Burning Man for all I knew.
That happened in October, right?
But that didn’t make sense. Jack was here.
My single-bedroom apartment?
No. I’d left that behind.
Then the pieces slowly started to fall back into place.
I remembered disentangling myself from Chloe and Lara, both of them covered in sweat. Chloe had still been awake, although barely. She looked ready to tap out.
Lara, on the other hand, had been an unconscious mess of sweat, slick, and cum. It coated most of her face and neck, made her breasts glisten, and matted strands of hair against her skin. A single dark stain had spread through the bedsheets from the point where she lay, like the bed itself had given up trying to survive the night with dignity.
It was an erotically horrifying sight.
Under different circumstances, I might have been tempted to take Lara’s ass one last time.
Unfortunately, my dick had apparently filed a formal complaint and gone on strike.
Chloe had grabbed me after Natalie and Erin had fallen asleep and dragged me to another room, where she had a wet and very willing Lara waiting for both of us. We’d spent the rest of the early morning hours making sure Astrid found her submissive companion thoroughly used by the man and woman who had bested her.
After that, I got a quick shower, so I wasn’t completely revolting, fell back into bed with Natalie and Erin for about forty-five minutes, and then was roused by Chloe, who told me it was time to leave.
Xander Colefax wanted to leave soon.
I barely remembered Chloe filling me in. Tyler and Liz were gone. Astrid and Lara were gone. Everyone had apparently made their exits while I was doing my best impression of a corpse.
Once Chloe denied Astrid access to me, Astrid had simply brushed past her and made her way to Lara, muttering darkly about how she needed to gather her belongings. Chloe hadn’t stuck around to witness Astrid’s reaction after she saw the state we’d left her companion in but was convinced I’d hear about it.
Tyler, on the other hand, had been a completely different matter.
He’d tried to bully Chloe into letting him see me, then resorted to physical force when his words fell on deaf ears. Chloe reported that she’d put him on the ground until his amazon of a bodyguard intervened. The woman helped him up, and he made all sorts of legal and social threats before limping away with his bodyguard trailing behind him.
Chloe said Liz had given her a meaningful look as they left, and she suspected his behavior had only pushed Liz further into my camp.
I hoped so.
After gathering the girls and our things, we left without seeing the Wyns, Nyrissa, Colefax, or anyone else ... all of us performing our little walk of shame.
I could barely remember taking the ferry back to shore or the helicopter ride back to my house. It was all a giant blur of faded memories, engine noise, sunlight, expensive leather seats, and the vague sense that my life had become far too weird for one man to process on limited sleep and a sexually depleted nervous system.
I just remembered crashing into my bed.
Then Natalie crashing beside me.
Then nothing.
That had been ... what? Early afternoon?
Rolling toward my bedside table, I grabbed my phone and noticed, with genuine delight, that it was plugged in and fully charged. That thoughtful little miracle had Erin written all over it.
The clock informed me that it was after eight in the morning on Sunday.
I’d slept for the better part of a day.
“God,” I muttered, dropping my head back onto the mattress as I idly stroked Jack’s head.
He purred like a small engine, smug and warm and very pleased with the fact that he didn’t have to deal with human nonsense.
Then I looked over and saw Natalie and Erin.
Both of them were unconscious and very naked as they spooned each other. Erin was closest to me this time, with Natalie’s taller form curled around her from behind. Even asleep, Erin was sexy and tempting, and part of me wanted to reach over, slip my fingers between those pretty lips of hers, and just ... enjoy her.
But after the marathon sex and everything else both of them had been through, the most loving thing I could do was leave them alone and let them sleep.
Look at that. Personal growth.
So I scooped up my cat and slipped out of bed, searching for my robe as I crept across the floor. Jack squirmed in my arms, trying to get comfortable while also making it clear that my handling technique was unacceptable.
I peeked into the bathroom, checked the floor at the foot of the bed, and looked to see if my robe was hanging on the slightly ajar door.
Nothing.
“Did you eat it?” I whispered to Jack.
He slowly blinked back at me and continued purring, unbothered by my petty concerns.
I crept to the door of my bedroom, quietly opened it into the sitting room, and slipped inside, carefully closing it behind me so I wouldn’t disturb the girls.
As I turned around, I saw my robe draped across the back of a chair on the far side of the little room.
Then I noticed I wasn’t alone.
Emiko was sitting in the chair beside it, reading a book. As I spotted her, she was already looking up from the page. Her dark eyes moved over me in one calm, unhurried sweep, and the corner of her mouth twitched with what I could only describe as amusement.
“Good morning, sir,” she said, placing a bookmark between the pages and closing it with the same grace she applied to everything else she did.
Then she rose to her feet.
“I trust you slept well?”
She wore a simple blouse and a pair of yoga pants, which was far more informal than I was used to seeing from her. The blouse was cream, with a wide neck that draped to the edge of one shoulder and looked as if it were one careless movement away from slipping down her arm. Her yoga pants were black and tight, and when she turned to retrieve my robe, I couldn’t help noticing how well cared-for her ass was.
Damn.
Emiko kept it tight.
“Um ... yeah,” I said. “I did. Slept a long time.”
Jack squirmed in my arms, apparently offended that I hadn’t figured out exactly how he wanted to be held.
Emiko opened the robe, turned, and held it out in front of her, the inside facing me.
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said as I approached, doing my best not to blush.
Emiko had already seen me naked on more than one occasion, the most recent being when I’d taken a shower while she gave me an assessment of Jessica’s performance and training progress. Still, I’d just woken up and discovered my lovely domestic manager waiting for me in the sitting room to catch me naked.
At least, that’s what it felt like ... otherwise, why would she have moved my robe?
But then the scent of fresh laundry hit me.
Still, I wasn’t exactly prepared to parade myself around a woman I hadn’t been intimate with.
I slipped into the robe and cinched it around my waist, grateful for the veil of modesty.
“And Miss Malik and Miss Bander?” Emiko asked.
“Still asleep,” I said, turning around. “Let them sleep as long as they need. They’ve earned it.”
“Of course, sir.”
She stepped toward the small table beside her chair and lifted a mug of coffee from a warming pad. Steam curled up from it, rich and dark and beautiful.
“Bless you,” I said, taking the mug from her and closing both hands around it.
The first sip tasted perfect. Strong, smooth, hot, and exactly what my body needed. I could feel the synapses in my brain begin opening up like flowers in one of those time-lapse nature documentaries.
Emiko’s mouth twitched again.
“Miss Tanner and Miss Tanaka reported on Friday night’s events,” she said. “It sounds as if all of you suffered quite the ordeal.”
“You could say that,” I mused, taking another sip of coffee.
I lowered myself into one of the chairs while Jack finally escaped my arms and dropped to the floor. He padded away and disappeared under one of the nearby chairs, obviously waiting for me to leave so he could find more interesting things worth his time.
Emiko resumed her seat, composed as ever, and listened while I gave her a brief recounting of the night’s events. She didn’t interrupt often, but when she did, her questions were precise. Names of people. Who they had come with. Who was interested in who. She would make connections to people based on my descriptions and provide insights that made me remember she had spent years managing people and secrets inside places of luxury. Hell ... maybe I should’ve taken her to the island.
“I have met Nicholas Wyn briefly,” she said after a moment, taking a sip from her own mug. “In Osaka, while performing my duties.”
I realized then that at some point during my retelling, she had switched roles from domestic manager to friend and confidant without me noticing. It amazed me how easily she could move from one role to another, like changing outfits when no one is looking.
“You didn’t say anything,” I said.
“There was nothing to say,” Emiko replied, without a hint of guilt. “He was a charming man. He treated my girls very well and tipped generously. The women spoke very highly of him.”
That last sentence carried weight that didn’t quite match the words.
“But?” I asked.
She regarded me for a moment, her expression still and impossible to read.
Then she said, “He was too charming. It felt like a mask.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s a snake. I think he’s bugged his entire house and uses those parties to blackmail people. Wouldn’t surprise me if the whole nonprofit organization was a front for something else.”
For a moment, I lost myself in the conversation I’d had with Nicholas after the game ended. He’d seemed frustrated when I refused to spend the night in his house, with ears and eyes hidden in the walls.
What had I said on that island?
Anything incriminating?
Bobbi?
Not that I could remember.
Sabotaging VistaVision?
Why the hell would I have mentioned that?
Colin Gerrard’s death?
I hadn’t done anything that could be used against me.
If anything, Tyler might have said something incriminating. I just couldn’t remember everything he’d said word for word. The night had been too long, strange, and too crowded with sex and aristocratic weirdos tripping on power.
Had Tyler confessed?
Or had he just danced around it?
Was it possible Nicholas and Aurelia Wyn had something I wanted? Like a recording of Tyler at least implying that he killed Colin?
Then a random bit of conversation floated to the surface of my memory.
Sachiko’s eyes narrowed. “And I’m supposed to trust you instead?”
“More than Astrid? She’s the one who got you stranded on an island where you’re being hunted by a bunch of rich, fat fucks.”
“You kidnapped my brother,” Sachiko said.
“After Ryo tried to kill me,” I pointed out. “And it was the only way to get your father’s attention.”
“Which you had until you cut off his finger and sent it to us like we were in a bad mafia movie.”
“Well, holding him hostage was only getting me so far. Your dad tried to have me killed at our negotiation?”
Sachiko’s brows knit in confusion.
“Come on, Sachiko!” I said. “What was I supposed to do? Not retaliate?”
I huffed. “Frankly, I don’t know why I’m still holding him if your father’s willing to try to assassinate me in front of his own daughter and risk both his kids.”
My blood ran cold.
The floor dropped out of my stomach.
“Fuck,” I whispered, leaning forward and bowing my head over my cup of coffee.
Had that conversation been recorded?
But then why hadn’t Nicholas lorded it over me?
Unless he didn’t know he had it yet.
Or he knew exactly what he had and was saving it as some kind of trump card.
“Emiko?” I said, my eyes screwed shut.
“Sir?”
I looked up and caught her watching me intently, her posture still composed, but her eyes sharper now. She was already aware something had shifted.
“You said Sachiko filled you in on the party?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “I assumed you would want her shown hospitality, so I gave her a room a guest room. She slept all afternoon. Then, Miss Upton, Miss Lazarov, and I had a nice dinner with her. She shared the night’s details with us.”
“Is she still here?”
“She was still weary and asked if she could stay the night. I anticipated that you would approve.”
I nodded once. I absolutely would have approved. Sachiko had been through hell, and whatever complicated connection she had to me, thanks to her family, she deserved a safe space to recover.
“She has awakened,” Emiko continued, “and is in the breakfast room with Miss Lazarov and Miss VanCamp.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady the sudden flurry of heartbeats.
Breakfast room.
Of course.
Because apparently, I owned enough house now that each meal needed its own dedicated space. To think, I’d been using the dining room for breakfast this entire time.
“Are you all right, sir?” Emiko asked.
“Yeah,” I said, even though the black hole of anxiety in my chest said otherwise. “I just need to talk to Sachiko.”
I set the coffee cup on the small table beside my chair and stood.
“Can you show me where the breakfast room is?” I asked. “I didn’t even know we had one.”
Turns out, we did, in fact, have a breakfast room.
It was on the other side of the kitchen, tucked into a corner of the apartment, with an incredible view of the New York skyline stretching across two of the walls.
I walked into the miniature dining room in my robe and got my first look.
Sachiko paused with her coffee cup halfway to her lips and looked up at me. Her dark eyes were slightly puffy from sleep and completely unreadable.
She wore a silk turquoise robe, left open to reveal a simple cotton shirt underneath. The shirt had the kind of bagginess that came from borrowing clothes from someone a little more well-endowed than she was. Her hair had been twisted up and secured with a brown clip at the back of her head, leaving a few loose strands framing her face.
She looked tired.
Beautiful, too, in that controlled, sharp way of hers.
She wasn’t the only one in the room.
Jessica was currently dishing pancakes onto an empty plate and looked up as I entered. She wore her customary maid’s outfit, complete with the open window in the chest that gave everyone a generous display of her large, pale breasts. Her lips were painted a deep crimson that matched her freshly painted nails. Her red hair had also seen some work. Where I could often see hints of brown at the roots, I saw none now. Just deep maroon locks pulled back in a loose bun.
She looked lovely.
I let my eyes linger a few beats longer than necessary, remembering the last time I’d seen her—tied up and lying at the foot of my bed like some kind of pet.
She met my gaze and gave me a fleeting, hopeful smile.
I gave her half of one in return before moving on.
Helen sat to Sachiko’s left, chewing the dainty bite of egg she’d just taken. Unlike our guest, she was dressed professionally, wearing a white blouse that swooped just enough to be enticing to any straight, breathing male while still maintaining the necessary level of appropriateness.
Natashya, on the other hand, had gone super casual. She wore a simple sleeveless undershirt that showed off her dancer’s arms and a generous amount of cleavage. She sat on the opposite side of Sachiko, so I got a very helpful view of her ass thanks to the yoga pants that looked practically painted on.
She looked over her shoulder at me and grinned, her mahogany eyes sparkling.
“Marcus!”
Helen, who had seemed intent on whatever she’d been thinking, broke into a warm smile when she saw me.
That kind of smile from Helen wasn’t something most people got to experience. It was maternal, elegant, and laced with the heat of a passionate lover. Coming from a woman who usually regarded the world with cool precision, it felt like a warm bath after standing outside in cold rain. It felt earned and very much mine.
That glow in her eyes heated my very core.
“Marcus!” she said. She looked like she wanted to stand and come over to me, but I caught the quick flicker of her eyes toward Sachiko. Her discretion kicked in, and she stayed where she was.
“Um,” Jessica said. “Welcome back...”
She hesitated as well, looking uncertain for half a second before adding, “Sir.”
“Thanks, Jessica,” I said, making my way toward the empty seat.
I sat down and looked at the three women at the table.
“It’s nice to see some friendly faces.”
“Yes,” Natashya said. “It looks like you took some beatings while volunteering as tribute.”