Page 116 of Forgotten Promise

“Do you actually have…” she asked.

“Why don’t you check?” John said.

Kailani put her palms on his chest, felt the lump under one hand. John grabbed another handful of skirt.

Another hand brushed over her bare shoulder, and Kailani turned her head to look at Benjamin. He half sat on the game table in the center of the room. It was long enough to serve as either a craps or French Roulette table, but right now the top was unmarked tan felt.

John made an impatient sound as he released the handfuls of fabric, only to stoop and catch the hem of her dress. He yanked it up around her hips. Kailani gasped as cool air touched her thighs. She was wearing a black lace thong, which instantly chilled, thanks to the fact that their conversation at the roulette table had made her wet enough to soak the fabric.

John’s hands went to her legs, skin on skin, her skirts pooled on his forearms.

“I’m going to bend you over that table. Benjamin is going to hold you down and then I’m going to play with you before sliding a plug into your ass.”

The words weren’t quite a question, but she moaned a quiet, “Yes, please.”

John’s hands slid to her ass. She knew what he wanted, and Kailani hopped as he lifted her. Her legs went around his hips, his hands under her bare ass cheeks, and he carried her over to the game table.

Just before he set her down, Kailani gasped, “The table.”

Benjamin seemed to know what she meant because he slid off his jacket, laying it down lining-side up on the edge of the table.

John set her down, her body sliding against his chest. She kept her arms around his neck until Benjamin took her wrists, tugging them away from John. She wasn’t sure what he was doing as he reached into John’s jacket. She had a momentary flash of a clear glass toy, before Benjamin, now in his shirt sleeves, headed for the small wet bar in the corner.

John’s thumbs stroked the inside of her knees as he spread her thighs apart. Then his fingers were at her core, pressing the damp fabric of her thong between her pussy lips as he explored her sex. She arched her back, throat working, as his fingers grazed her clit. Even with the sensation-dampening barrier of fabric, the touch was electric. Their words, hell, their very presence had her desperate and needy.

Behind her, there were the sounds of Benjamin washing the toy. How very Benjamin-like to always be thinking of the details, to take care of them.

John’s lips brushed her cheek, her ear. “Do you think I should let you come now?”

“Let me?” Kailani tried to make it a challenge, but it sounded more like a plea.

“Let you,” he confirmed. “You don’t get to come unless I say so. And if you’re thinking of playing with yourself, just remember…” He straightened, adjusting her skirts to make sure her pussy was visible to Benjamin, who walked up beside them. “There’s two of us, and one of you.”

Benjamin was watching him with a hungry expression. He handed the now-washed plug back to John, who accepted it, examined it.

“Flip her over,” he ordered.

Benjamin didn’t hesitate. He yanked Kailani off the table and spun her around. Kailani’s skirt fell to cover her legs as she reached out, ready to brace herself. Benjamin’s hand between her shoulder blades forced her to bend over the table. She shivered in arousal and just a hint of, if not exactly fear, nervousness. She trusted these men, both together and separately, but that didn’t change the fact that some deep survival instinct was desperately pointing out that they could, and would, easily control her body.

She reminded that instinct that they would both stop the instant she said anything, and that this pseudo helplessness was hot as fuck.

Kailani braced her hands on Benjamin’s jacket, the satin smooth and slick under her palms.

But that wasn’t enough. He kept up the pressure between her shoulders until she dropped onto her elbows.

“All the way,” Benjamin commanded, voice dark and rough.

Kailani shifted her weight from foot to foot, thighs rubbing against one another, as she lowered her upper body. Her cheek lay against fabric that smelled like Benjamin, her arms tucked in against her sides, palms under her shoulders. Her ass was in the air, the heels she wore adding height so she was bent at an acute angle.

John’s palms skimmed up the backs of her legs, taking her skirt with it, until once more, she felt cold against her thighs and arousal-dampened panties.

“Look at her.” John’s voice was low and husky.

“Oh I am.” Benjamin perched a hip on the table beside her and leaned over to look. Kailani could see him examining her out of the corner of her eye.

“Is she wet?” Benjamin asked.

“Very.” John’s fingers skittered over her wet thong. He paused, and then he made another pass, and this time it felt like he deliberately forced the fabric between her labia, molding it over her clit.

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