Castle In The Clouds Ch 10

I was pleasantly surprised to find that Andrew was a difficult man to get a hold of that week. He had taken our conversation seriously and was with his children nearly every moment. He was present for every meal, planned excursions and games with them, and integrated himself into bedtime routines. Most days I wouldn't see him at all until dinner where the family, Henri, and Lawrence, and I would all eat together, and then afterward I wouldn't see him until hours later when he seemed delightfully exhausted. Sunday evening, as I swallowed my guilt of searching through his late wife's belongings, he cheerfully described every minute detail of his play with Marisol and Tarak, giggling like a schoolboy, until he drifted off with his head on my shoulder. I crept back to my own bedroom, satisfied that the glow had returned to his life.

Monday morning and afternoon kept me busy ironing out details for the holiday weekend. The amount of double-checking and triple-checking was beginning to drive me bananas, but I was determined for this Thanksgiving to go off without a hitch. I was actually feeling a tad tired and anxious by the time dinner rolled around; unusual for me, and Lawrence definitely noticed. When he entered the dining room, following the tumultuous horseplay and laughter of Andrew and the children, he caught my eyes and raised an eyebrow. "I take it your meeting with the wine supplier was eventful?" he commented, keeping his tone neutral.

I gave a curt nod. "Everything was settled by the end. But I will be advising a different supplier for our next celebration."

Andrew looked up at that, noticing the clipped tone in my voice. "They didn't treat you badly, did they?" he asked, concerned.

"I wouldn't say that," I reassured him as we took our seats and the food was served.

"But they have had a change in leadership and are...lacking in their understanding of key business practices."

Lawrence merely nodded in return. "We will return to our local distributor for the winter holidays. It was poor timing that they had a flu outbreak and had to take a step back from business for the month. Thank you for taking on the daunting task of finding a last-minute supplier and setting up the orders with them."

"I appreciate that," I said earnestly. Praise from the esteemed Mr. Kumiega was a treasure. "And I appreciate everything you had organized for me to make it smoother," I turned to Henri. "Having expectations based on previous years was a huge help."

"Not at all," Henri said with a wave of her hand. "All I had to do was give you last year's receipts."

With the matter settled, we turned the conversation to happier things. I couldn't help but grin as I looked over the Khatri family. Andrew had shed his usual business wear and was in jeans and a chunky sweater, which was slightly askew from play. Compared to the three of us in our pressed uniforms, he looked incredibly relaxed. As the adults dined on savory vegetable stew with artisan bread, the children in their play clothes were helping themselves to steamed vegetables and pasta. "What did you play with your daddy today?" I asked Marisol, who was digging into mac and cheese with abandon.

"We built a blanket fort in the lounge!" she shared, beaming.

"Just like the ones you built at your slumber party?"

"Even better!" She wiggled in her seat. "Daddy and Tarak and me searched the whole house and found all the fluffiest pillows and the biggest bedsheets."

I glanced over at Andrew, who grinned sheepishly. "I may have added to our laundry load for the week quite significantly."

I rolled my eyes at him with a playful grin and turned my attention to Tarak. "Who made the blueprints for the fort?"

He puffed his chest. "Dad helped improve the design, but it was my idea to use hockey sticks and golf clubs for cross-bracing."

"Cross bracing?!" I covered my mouth as a laugh escaped me. "Tarak, you think of everything."

"The fort is still up," Andrew commented, "and I imagine we'll keep it up all week. We left a big opening so we could see the screen for movies and video games, and there's plenty of floor space for board games and puzzles." He bent over the table conspiratorially. "But we may not be in it much tomorrow, because...we're going out."

I felt a shift in mood across the table immediately. Tarak was radiating, Marisol was all dimples, Andrew looked quite pleased. Yet Henri had gone still, and Lawrence was sitting even stiffer than usual. "Out?" I repeated, eyes darting between people.

"We haven't had a family outing in years," Andrew acknowledged. "And the kids insisted we invite Mrs. Henri along, because she will be retiring soon. And to give Lawrence the day off, because he's been taking care of them every waking moment."

"Oh!" I observed Henri in my periphery. She was taking an unusually long amount of time to chew her bite of bread. "Where are you going?"

"Well, in the morning we're going to brunch and an arcade," Andrew answered, obliviously excited. "I have to show this little tiger who has the high score in Blocks Smash."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Dad," Tarak retorted.

"And then we have tickets to a matinee off-Broadway performance of--"

"We're going to see Ice Princess on stage!" Marisol cut in, bursting at the seams and bouncing in her chair.

Andrew and Henri both laughed. "That's what she calls it," Henri explained. "It's been her favorite movie her whole life."

"So when she found out they made it a stage musical, with twice as many songs, well... She's been begging to go since her birthday." Andrew reached across to tousle her blonde tresses as the little one giggled. "And now we finally are! And after, we're going out for dinner, because we'll all have changed into our nicest clothes for the show."

"How are you feeling about the plans?" I asked Tarak. "I can tell Miss Marisol is excited."

Tarak grinned. "I wasn't happy about the show at first. But Dad challenged me to watch it and figure out how they make the snow magic happen on stage."

"What if it's real magic?" Marisol teased him, poking him in the arm. "You won't be able to figure anything out then, will you?"

"Of course it's not real magic," Tarak protested. "Real magic people have to keep their powers hidden, they wouldn't just use them on stage in front of an audience like that."

Marisol returned to her mac and cheese, seemingly satisfied with this answer, while the adults stifled our chuckles.

Lawrence turned his attention to Andrew, his rigid fingers clenching his fork and knife. "Sir, I understand you have your heart set on this outing. But once again, I must express my concerns--"

"Come off it, Lawrence," Andrew interrupted. "You've given me your concerns and we've come up with answers for all of them. Each location is completely secure, your best staff will accompany us, and we don't need to worry about daily routine--it's the holidays for crying out loud! Take your day off, you deserve it."

Lawrence closed his mouth at that, but his posture remained inflexible until Marisol promised to bring him a prize from the arcade, at which point he finally let his shoulders melt a fraction of an inch.

Dinner flew by, and dessert was barely finished by the time I could see the children's eyes drooping. Marisol finally put her ice cream spoon down in defeat, and Lawrence stood from his chair. "Medicine first, young miss, then it's time for a bath so you're all clean and fresh for your show tomorrow."

Marisol whined, curling up in her chair and hugging her arms to her chest. "I don't want to do my medicine tonight," she complained as a staff member brought Lawrence the injection materials on a tray. "Can't I take it tomorrow?"

"Now, now, young miss," Lawrence said soothingly, once again demonstrating warmth to her that he was incapable of in staff meetings. "Keeping the timing of your medicine consistent is greatly important. A regular routine helps us make sure you're getting what you need exactly when you need it."

"He's right, honey," Andrew said, walking over to Marisol and wrapping her in a hug. "Your mommy had to take these meds too, you know. And she was very strict with her schedule."

Lawrence nodded as he inspected the vial to confirm the label was correct. "Your mother was very responsible with her medicine. She took her injection the last Saturday of every month, without fail. And you," he said, putting on gloves, "take yours the third Monday of every month."

Marisol continued to pout, but she loosened her posture in her father's embrace, and in a moment was ready to hold her arm out. She watched as Lawrence prepared her needle, then tapped the syringe with a few flicks of his finger. "Why do you always do that?" she asked as he started the injection.

"To remove any bubbles," he replied, delivering the medicine with the swift efficiency of a certified nurse. In the blink of an eye the needle was gone, and there was barely a mark on her. She hadn't even flinched. "Putting bubbles into your body would be very dangerous, especially if they went into a blood vessel." He gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "That's why it's very important that whoever gives you your medicine is trained. And I will always, always be very careful with you. You know I'll always take care of you."

Marisol nodded quite seriously.

"Thank you, Lawrence," Andrew said as he rocked Marisol in his lap. "Come on, crew, time for baths!"

"Bubble bath?" Marisol asked hopefully as they headed to the door.

"Whatever your heart desires," Lawrence reassured her.

Henri and I stayed behind to finish overseeing dinner cleanup and the closing of house affairs. I took advantage of a quiet moment over the table. "How are you feeling about the outing tomorrow?" I asked her.

"Oh, I'm thrilled," she said with a chipper lilt in her voice. "Marisol has been talking about seeing that show for ages. And it'll be so nice to do something with the kids out of the house."

I watched her carefully as she walked toward the kitchen. "I'm glad," I answered. "I just know big days like that can be tiring."

"Oh, my old bones have life in them yet," she replied with a wave of her hand. She halted unexpectedly, and I stood silently, not daring to move as she gathered her thoughts. "Lawrence is just concerned about safety, being in so many different public places in one day," she commented.

"Of course."

Henri gave a nod and resumed her strides. I watched her go, my mind replaying the details of the meal and conversation.

I sought Andrew out after bath time and bedtime stories, and found him headed back to his room with a spring in his step. "You look exuberant," I observed as he took my arm in the crook of his.

"I am a new man," he declared, shoulders square and smile brilliant. "I have two charming, intelligent, growing children, and I have a lovely woman on my arm." He suddenly took my hand and spun me in the hallway, and I couldn't help laughing with him in his impromptu dance.

When he had stilled, his arms were wrapped around my waist, hands warm on my hips, and his eyes were gazing deeply into mine. "Have I told you how captivating you are?" he murmured, touching the tip of his nose to mine. "Everything about you. Your melodic voice, your sparkling eyes... You're like a painting brought to life."

I trailed my finger tips down his heck and shoulders, bringing my hands to his back to rub small circles. "You flatter me," I said, and I began planting kisses on his cheek, then trailing up his jaw toward his ear in between my words. "You don't know how it excites me to be held by someone like you. Handsome face, brooding eyes, but more so the way you always touch me as though nothing makes you prouder than making me moan."

"And do you like the way I touch you?" His hands wandered to waistband of my uniform skirt, fingers sliding under the band and wiggling my blouse loose.

"I like it more when you let me touch you back," I said, and I clasped my lips on his neck, satisfied by the catch in his breath in response. I didn't waste more time on words, letting my tongue dance along the hollow of his throat. It took self-control not to nibble and suck harder, but I didn't think hickies the night before his big family outing was the smartest idea.

That was about all the self-control either of us seemed to have in that moment. As I lightly grazed my teeth just under his ear, Andrew hissed and stepped forward, planting his leg between mine and pinning me to the hall. And there, right in the middle of the corridor, he began running his hands up and down my sides, pulling my blouse completely free from its restraint. His warm palms and firm fingertips began a hungry massage, as if he was trying to heat me up from his touch. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair as I nibbled on his earlobe, and next thing I knew his fingers were flying through my blouse buttons.

I gasped and muffled a moan by biting my lip as his hands found my breasts. He started by groping over my thin bralette, fingertips gently rolling over my nipples barely contained by the mesh. I leaned my head back and he dove for my own neck, returning the attention I had paid to him moments prior. The warmth from his tongue spread down my neck to my collarbone, and I gripped his shoulders to steady myself. One hand returned to the small of my back, pulling me to him as much as his knee was keeping my spread legs pinned to the wall, and his other hand slid under the bralette to palm my breast with bare skin. He leveraged his thigh against me, pushing my skirt up until I was grinding my lace underwear against denim.

I let myself savor the attention from him for as long as I could stand it, but the heat budding between my legs couldn't stand it for long. I turned my face to his, interrupting his worship of my throat with a deep kiss, tongues dancing hungrily. When I could break away, I tugged at the hem of his sweater. "It's no fair if I'm the only one getting undressed," I said huskily.

He grinned mischievously and stepped away from the wall. Clasping my hand in his, he led the way to his bedroom, the two of us jogging and giggling like teenagers running to the bleachers.

His bedroom suite in this wing of the estate had a very different aesthetic than the one at the mountain manor. I was familiar enough with it at this point that my eyes didn't need to focus on the details. We rushed past the first room, which served as his office and sitting room. I wouldn't have minded stopping at the mint-green velvet chaise lounge, but Andrew kept pulling me along past the whimsical French decor. It seemed he had a specific idea in mind, and I was more than willing to follow and discover what it was.

As soon as we were in the bedroom proper and Andrew had closed the door behind us, his mouth was on mine again, and we stumbled our way backwards to the four-poster bed. Even with my eyes closed I could map out the room. As a child it had been decorated to resemble the French countryside, with stately wooden furnishings and natural woven tapestries softening the walls. Now that Andrew had resumed lodging here, the details had been elevated. Chief of all, of course, was the generously sized bed with cream luxurious bedclothes and verdun curtains, tied back with gold clasps. But as we had cuddled the previous night, I had admired the hand-painted lilies that trailed along the walls and adorned the twin side tables, the impressive wardrobe in the corner, the standing mirror with a distressed finish, and the plush sitting chair next to the bookshelf adorned with leather-bound favorites.

Plenty of time to continue admiring the decor later. Right now he was pulling my blouse off my shoulders and trying to find the zipper for my form-fitting skirt.

I quickly guided his fingers to the zipper hidden in the seam, and he pulled the skirt from my hips like a magician pulling a tablecloth. He picked me up at the hips and lightly tossed me onto the bed, where I was cradled by the thickest duvet I have ever felt. I watched, smirking, as he pulled his sweater over his head. "I will never get tired of that sight," I told him, letting my eyes devour him and pressing my thighs together.

"Good," he said, tossing the sweater to his chair. He walked over to one of the side tables and pulled open its drawer. I heard a familiar rattle and grinned in excitement as he retrieved a wand--not the tablecloth-pulling kind. "Because I intend," he continued, unzipping his jeans and letting them fall, "to have this body pressed against yours for as long as you'll allow it." His boxers quickly followed, and I was pleased to see his dick starting to emerge from its folds.

"Is 'forever' an option?" I purred, moving to the side as he climbed up to join me on the bed.

"Let's find out," he murmured. He held himself over me on all fours and returned to kissing me, more gently than before, teasing me with his fingertips trailing over my bralette. I started to reach to take it off, but he stopped me, redirecting my fingers to his waist. "Leave it on just a little longer," he breathed into my neck, kissing down to my collarbone. "I want to tease my lovely a little more."

My lovely.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I lunged for him, lips seizing his, seeking to quiet the humming in my mind. He returned the kiss oblivious to the effect his words were having on me.

When he broke the kiss, he sat back on his ankles, hands trailing down my body. "I want your mouth on my dick," he said, fingertips massaging my thighs. "And I want you to use the wand while you do. Can you do that?"

"Happily."

I started to move to kneel, but his hands urged me to stay. He reached for the wand and turned it on. He kept it on the lowest setting first and began trailing it up and down my thighs, which were pinned closed under him. "Tell me what setting you want it on," he said.

"Could you go up two?"

He did, and was rewarded with a gasp and groan of appreciation each time he brought the vibrating head closer to my pubic mound. "Will you let me play with your pretty pussy for a moment?" he asked, fingers on his free hand massaging my ass. "I love the sounds you make."

I nodded. He adjusted, moving my legs so he was sitting between them instead of on top, and finally my lace panties were in clear view. He continued his teasing for a moment, moving up and down my thighs, until he was satisfied with my groans of frustration. And suddenly there was sweet relief, and the waves of pulsing were right where I needed them to be, over my swollen labia and palpitating clit.

"Sweet god," I gasped. It didn't take me long to realize that Andrew was recreating the movements that I used when we would video chat, back when I had first been hired. He had apparently remembered the circles I would use, keeping my vulva firmly pleasured by the pulsations but resisting the quick ride to orgasm on my clit. My fingers curled into the duvet and I threw my head back, making him chuckle. My hips bucked up and circled against him, and he began a game of cat-and-mouse with my clit, where my hips desperately sought climax and he continued to keep it just out of reach.

Finally he brought my hand to the wand. When it was firm in my grasp, he went to one side of me and crawled up the bed until he had reached my mouth. Then he carefully brushed my hair up and away from my body, cascading up over the pillow. Once it was clear, he knelt on either side of my shoulders, bringing the enticing sight of his glistening dick over my face. "Make yourself cum over and over if you have to," he told me, caressing my cheek, "but don't you dare take that toy away until I cum."

"I won't," I promised, panting. I licked my lips. "Please, let me suck you."

His only answer was to smile, lean slightly forward with a hand braced against the upholstered headboard, and lower his dick to my waiting tongue.