4. Brielle

Levi's voice slices through the thick air, laced with skepticism that sends a tremor down my spine. "We shouldn't do this," he states, his eyes dark with conflict.

I'm surprised he's the one saying the words, considering it seemed like he wanted me back in the airport bathroom.

From across the room, Conrad shakes his head, his confidence as alluring as the knowing smirk playing on his lips. How can all of these men be so damn attractive? "Doubts be damned. I couldn't disagree with you more," he declares.

"Brielle." Grayson's touch is gentle as he brushes my hair aside, exposing the nape of my neck to the cool air surrounding us. His fingers graze my skin, and I shiver, the sensation electric. The simple act feels so intimate, so possessive, that it anchors me to the moment, to the impending reality of what's about to happen.

I'm really about to lose my virginity. This is never how I would have expected it, yet no other way sounds better.

Screw my ex. He never made me feel a fraction of the way that these men do, nor has any other man.

"Easy access," Grayson murmurs, and I can't help but wonder if he realizes how those words sear through me, igniting fires in places I didn't know could burn.

"We can't trust her." Levi's doubt is a splash of cold water. "She hasn't signed an NDA. Since when do we not play by the rules?"

"An NDA?" I echo, my pulse quickening. What are they going to do that requires a nondisclosure agreement?

"That's okay," Grayson whispers against my neck. "You don't have plans of telling anyone anyway, do you? You seem like the type who can keep their mouth closed—or try, at least." He smirks, his words an innuendo.

Why do his words fill me with heat down there?

I shake my head quickly. "I don't have anyone I'd even want to tell."

"Good girl." The approval in Grayson's voice is dark chocolate—rich, sinful—and I shiver. I feel him smile against my skin as he goes in for a taste.

And oh, how I want to be devoured.

"I'm not here to spectate," Conrad comments. "I'm not going to miss out on sky sex. Do whatever you want, Levi, just know you're missing out."

I watch, heart hammering against my rib cage, as Levi's eyes darken with an unreadable emotion. He doesn't move, but the air around us thickens with his indecision.

Do I want him to join? Would it make me a slut if I did?

For a moment, I wonder if he'll walk away, but then Conrad shifts closer to me, his proximity drawing my attention.

"Isn't that right, Brielle?" Conrad's hand finds my cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair. The contact is electric, sending heat between my thighs.

"Y-Yes," I stutter, amazed by my own audacity. The word feels like a key, unlocking doors I never knew existed within me.

My mind whirls, racing with thoughts I can barely grasp. I'm a virgin, yet here I am, about to indulge in the fantasies of more than one man. I've always been the good girl, the wallflower. But now, I'm the center of their universe, the object of their collective desire. It's overwhelming, terrifying, and achingly seductive all at once.

"Look at her." Conrad's voice is low and laced with an ownership that shouldn't thrill me—but it does. "Ready to bloom under our touch."

"Please," I whisper, even if I'm not fully sure what it is I'm asking for.

"Are you sure?" Grayson asks, his voice a velvet caress against my earlobe. "This will be the last time we ask."

"More than anything," I breathe out, and it's the truth. I want this—I want them—with a ferocity that startles me.

"Good." Conrad grins, a predator baring his teeth before the feast. "Because there's no going back now."

Grayson's lips find the tender flesh of my neck, and I can't suppress the shiver that ripples through me. His mouth moves with a deliberate gentleness, each brush of his lips and each soft bite sending sparks cascading through my veins.

"Relax," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "We'll take care of you."

I nod, as Conrad faces me, watching me with his stormy gaze, dark and intense. Deliberately, his fingers work the buttons of my blouse, unhurried but confident. With each button released, my body feels more exposed, more vulnerable—and more eager. The fabric parts, revealing the simple lace of my bra, a barrier that now seems laughably inadequate.

"Beautiful," Conrad compliments, his voice a low rumble. His hands are warm through the delicate material of my bra, cups cradling the weight of my breasts and making my back arch slightly.

Grayson's fingers deftly unclasp my bra from behind until it falls from my body. Cool air kisses my heated flesh before Conrad leans in, his breath warm on my chest. And then, oh god, his mouth is there—hot and insistent—around one nipple, drawing a gasp from deep within me.

"Ah," I moan, my back arching instinctively toward him. I'm suddenly reminded that we're still on an airplane, even if their touch has distracted me from the thought. Panic flares inside me. "What if someone hears?"

Grayson's lips hover at my ear, his voice a velvet balm. "No one will hear, Brielle." His tongue traces the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "This room is soundproof."

I close my eyes, letting go of the fear as his words wrap around me like a protective cocoon. Conrad's hand plays a countermelody on my other breast, fingers plucking and kneading. My body sings under their touch, an unfamiliar feeling building low in my belly.

"Good," I breathe out, surrendering fully to the sensation. "Don't stop."

Conrad's hands, firm yet gentle, sculpt my flesh as if he's an artist and I am his most precious work. Warmth floods through me, pooling between my thighs. My skin prickles with need, every caress amplifying the hunger within me.

"Beautiful," Grayson murmurs against my lips before claiming them in a kiss so deep it steals my breath away. I can taste the desire on his tongue, a flavor that is uniquely his, mingling with mine in a heady cocktail that leaves me dizzy.

"More…" I whisper into the kiss, a plea for something I can't fully comprehend but desperately crave.

Grayson chuckles low in his throat, a sound that reverberates through me, stoking the flames. His hand slithers down to the waistband of my pants. My heart thunders as his fingers brush the fabric, teasing, barely there but enough to send a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins.

I arch into his touch, helpless to resist the call of their hands, their mouths, the overwhelming allure of being the center of such undivided attention.

My pulse races as Grayson's hands find my waist, spinning me around with a fluid motion that has me facing him. His eyes are dark with desire, the intensity within them sending a shock wave of anticipation through me. Conrad's arm doesn't leave my body, his touch a constant flame against the sensitive peaks of my breasts.

"Wait." Levi's voice slices through the thick air of arousal, firm yet laced with an undercurrent of something I can't quite place. I'd almost forgotten he was there. Almost. "Just…let me look at her."

Grayson pauses, an eyebrow raised, and Conrad's sensual touches slow but don't stop. Their gazes lock onto Levi, mischief and understanding dancing in their eyes. "Admire away," Grayson says, his tone teasing.

My cheeks flush warm with the weight of Levi's stare, intense and consuming. It feels like he's not just looking at me, but seeing right into the core of who I am. The air crackles with tension, and I'm somehow caught in the middle.

"Turn around for me, Brielle," Levi commands, his voice a velvet demand that sends my pulse into a wild rhythm.

I feel like I would do anything this man asked me to, as long as he sounds like that.

But I stop myself. Why? I'm not some object he can give his stamp of approval. My eyebrows furrow, and I swallow. "Why should I?" What is it that he wants to see anyway?

Levi's gaze lingers as if he's memorizing every detail, but he doesn't say anything before he suddenly straightens. My breath catches as he takes a deliberate step back, away from the heat of our would-be embrace.

"You're right."

I am? What is he doing? "Where are you going?" The question slips out, laced with an urgency that surprises even me.

He freezes for a moment before he turns slowly and walks toward me, my heart jumping once he's only a foot away. Levi's hand is sudden and firm as it lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his icy stare.

"You think you're ready for this?" His thumb brushes against my lower lip, and I shiver, not from his touch but from the coldness in his eyes. "You're not good enough for me, Brielle. No matter how sweet the package—" He smirks down at me, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "You're just a nice piece of ass."

The words slice through the fog of arousal, sharp and unexpected. My lips part, but no sound comes out—just a silent gasp of shock. Levi doesn't say anything else, he just walks through one of the doors, closing it behind him as if he hadn't said anything at all.

What an asshole. No man has ever been so rude to me.

"Hey, hey." Grayson's voice is a low, soothing rumble, pulling me back into the moment. His hands circle my wrists, grounding me. "Don't listen to him, Brielle. That's just Levi being Levi."

"Gray's right." Conrad's touch is a balm, smooth and steady against the tremble of my shoulders. "Brielle," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me, "look at me."

I lift my gaze to meet his, finding an ocean of calm in his stormy eyes. The harshness of Levi's words still echoes in my mind, but Conrad's presence is like gravity, pulling me back from the edge of doubt.

"Levi…he doesn't matter right now." Conrad's thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, anchoring me. "You're here with us, with me. We matter. You matter."

For some reason, his words reassure me.

"Have you ever…" Conrad starts, pausing as if searching for the right way to phrase his question. I'm grateful for a change of topic, looking at him eagerly to see what he wants to ask me.

His fingers trail down the column of my neck, eliciting a shiver. "Have you ever tasted someone? Given oral sex?"

My cheeks flame with heat, and my breath catches—a confession waiting to spill. "No, never," I whisper, admitting to my inexperience, my voice barely above the hum of our anticipation.

"Such innocence." Grayson's voice rumbles, the timbre resonating within me like a strummed chord. "It's intoxicating."

"Imagine being the one to awaken it fully," Conrad murmurs from close behind, his words a brush of warmth against my earlobe. His index finger traces a line down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "To be the first to claim you…"

A shudder racks through me.

"We won't introduce you to oral," Grayson says, his back bracing against the wall. "Not today, because today is about you. But that doesn't mean we can't have a little bit of fun."

His hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him. Our mouths collide, a desperate tangle of lips and teeth, each kiss igniting sparks that threaten to burn me alive from the inside out. I can feel his heart hammering against mine.

It's nice to know I'm not the only one affected.

"Undo my pants," he commands between kisses, his breath hot against my cheek. "I want to feel your hands on me."

Trembling with a blend of nervousness and excitement, my fingers fumble at his belt. I unzip him slowly, hyperaware of every touch.

My fingers tremble slightly as I slide Grayson's boxers down, my breath catching at the sight of him, bare and bold before me.

"Like this," he murmurs, guiding my hand with his own, showing me the rhythm that elicits a throaty moan from deep within him. "Wrap your fingers…tighter, yes. Now move—slowly."

I mimic his motions, my gaze locked on his face, searching for any sign of pleasure or approval. The corners of his eyes crinkle, and his mouth parts in a silent oh that sends a surge of pride through me. My body hums with power—the power to give pleasure, to command it.

"God, that's good," he groans, and my core clenches in response, hungry for attention that Conrad is all too willing to provide.

Conrad presses against me from behind, the hardness of him against my ass sending a thrill through me. He snakes his arms smoothly around my hips, reaching for the button of my jeans.

"Beautiful Brielle…" Conrad's voice is a low hum behind me. "So eager to explore."

Grayson's mouth devours mine again, and I'm adrift, caught in a current of pure, raw hunger. My tongue tangles with Grayson's as Conrad slides my pants down my legs, and then my underwear, and I step out of both. I should feel awkward to be fully naked in front of these two strangers, but I'm only excited, hungry for more.

"Let us take care of you now, Brielle." Conrad's voice is a velvet caress against the skin of my neck. My hand is temporarily removed from Grayson's length as they guide me over to the couch where I sit and lean back against the soft cushions.

As Grayson takes a position next to me on the couch, I begin to stroke his length again with my hand, somewhat more confidently now. Conrad kneels before me. His hands are warm on my thighs, spreading them with gentle insistence.

His breath fans over my dampness, and I shudder, my focus momentarily slipping. But Grayson's urgent whisper pulls me back. "Keep going…just like that."

The dual sensations are dizzying—Conrad's mouth on me and the firmness of Grayson in my hand. The world narrows to these points of contact, and I lose myself in the giving and receiving of pleasure.

"Beautiful girl," Conrad praises, and my heart swells with the need to be seen, to be cherished, to be praised. His tongue finds my clitoris, swirling around with an expertise that makes my legs quiver.

"Grayson…" I gasp, desperate to maintain the pace he taught me despite the waves of delight crashing over me.

"Focus on him, Brielle," Conrad commands, his voice muffled against me. "Show him how much you want this."

He makes it sound way easier than it is.

I tighten my grip, moving faster now, driven by the urgency in Grayson's darkened eyes. His hand cups my cheek, thumb stroking my jawline with a tenderness that contrasts the rawness of our encounter.

"Perfect," he whispers, and something warm blooms inside me, a flower unfurling its petals in the heat of their combined attention.

"Conrad," I moan, my nails digging into Grayson's thigh as pleasure spirals tighter within me. Conrad's answer is a deeper pressure, a flick of his tongue that sends shock waves pulsing through me.

The pulse of pleasure from Conrad's relentless attention is a rhythm I can't escape, and I don't want to. My hand moves over Grayson, guided by the urgency of his breathing, the heat of his skin under my touch. The slickness of his length makes me bolder, more curious as I explore him, feeling every tremor that ripples through his body.

"God, Brielle," Grayson groans, and his voice is molten, wrapping itself around me in a shiver-inducing caress. He sucks on my neck, marking me in a way that feels possessive, and it only amplifies the fire burning inside me.

"More," I plead, shifting against Conrad's mouth, desperate for more of everything they're offering.

My hips buck against the delicious pressure of Conrad's tongue. My hand on Grayson falters, my focus splintering with the onslaught of sensations.

"Keep going, sweetheart," Grayson breathes against my throat, his hands guiding mine, encouraging me to maintain the rhythm we've built together.

"Can't think," I mutter, my mind a haze of need. Every stroke I manage, every twist of my wrist, sends a jolt of pleasure up Grayson's spine, mirrored by the electric waves crashing against my own shores.

"Then just feel," Grayson whispers hotly, his lips traveling over my sensitive skin. "Let yourself feel everything."

I do. I let myself drown in the sensation, in the push and pull of hands and mouths. I'm a vessel filling with their desire, spilling over with my own.

"Close." Grayson's confession vibrates through me, and I know he's teetering on the edge. The knowledge that I can bring this strong, powerful man to the brink with just my hand sends a surge of feminine power through me, even as I'm coming undone under Conrad's relentless pursuit of my pleasure.

"Grayson," I whimper, his name a talisman against the overwhelming tide. It's all too much and yet not enough, and I'm spiraling, spiraling…

"Come with me, Brielle," Grayson urges, his climax imminent, his voice laced with raw edges of restraint.

And I do. God, I do.

Every part of my body tenses as moan after moan leaves my lips, my legs nearly buckling under the weight of my body. This is what an orgasm feels like? It's almost an out-of-body experience.

I'm barely aware of my surroundings, but I hear Grayson's moan as he spurts his come onto my chest. The sudden warmth, combined with the knowledge that I'm the one who brought him to that point, sends more shivers of pleasure through my body, along with a flare of pride. I lean against Grayson's chest, feeling spent, my breathing hard and uneven.

Then, Conrad's pants are hitting the ground and he's naked, grabbing ahold of my waist and repositioning me on the couch, making one thing clear. I'm far from finished.

"You need to stay relaxed," he instructs, his voice a low rumble of reassurance. "And talk to me, Brielle. If anything feels wrong, you tell me, okay?"

"Okay," I whisper, the single word a ghost of sound, still trying to get my breath back. I'm lying on my back on the couch now, Conrad positioned between my spread legs and Grayson kneeling on the floor next to me. There's an intimacy to this moment—a silent pact between us. I nod, trying to steady my pulse, to soften the tightness coiling within me.

Grayson's hand cups my cheek tenderly, drawing my attention back to him.

Conrad positions himself at my entrance, and I can't help but tighten around nothing as a reflex. I feel the heat of his body, the power in his thighs, and the head of his erection nudging against me, insistent yet cautious.

"Deep breaths," he coaches, and I follow his lead, inhaling deeply.

"Okay." I breathe out, my fingers entwined with Grayson's, seeking something solid to hold on to. As Conrad begins to push forward, I grip Grayson tighter—so tight it must hurt, but he doesn't complain.

Pain. A sharp intake of breath. It's there, undeniable, as Conrad breaches the threshold of my body. My vision blurs for a second, and I blink back the sting of tears even as I try to remember the deep breathing Conrad suggested.

"Hey, look at me," Grayson says softly, his thumb brushing away the wetness that escapes down my cheek.

"Is it too much?" Conrad's voice is laced with concern, and he pauses his movement. He looks down at me with a mix of desire and worry etched on his features.

"No…no, keep going." My voice is hoarse, the words barely a thread of sound. "I just need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," he assures me, holding still, allowing me to adjust to the new sensation, the fullness. The initial pain ebbs, replaced by a dull ache that promises more—more pleasure, more connection, more of them.

"Better?" Conrad asks after a moment, once I've relaxed around him a little bit. The muscles in his arms are tensed, ready to either retreat or advance, depending solely on my cue. I have all the power.

"Better," I confirm, and it's true. With each measured breath, I feel myself opening up, welcoming him inch by painstaking inch.

"Good girl," Grayson praises, his voice warm with pride. "Taking it all in stride."

His hands explore my body with a reverence, tracing the contours as if committing every dip and curve to memory. The rawness of it all—the unspoken trust, the shared breaths—intoxicates me more than any wine ever could.

Conrad moves a few times, but this time it's not pain I feel but intense pleasure.

"Conrad," I gasp, my voice a broken whisper, "it's…incredible."

"Let me show you just how incredible it can be," he promises, sending shivers down my spine.

With each thrust, he guides me, teaching my body new ways to feel, new thresholds of ecstasy. The pleasure builds, a crescendo in my veins, as I cling to him, my nails digging into his flesh in silent pleas for more, for everything.

"Keep your eyes on me," Grayson commands, his gaze locked onto mine, a stormy sea of blue that drowns all my fears and inhibitions. He's removed his clothes as well, and I notice he's hard again, gently stroking himself, his eyes blazing with lust at the scene in front of him.

I nod, unable to form words, riding the wave that he commands.

"God, Brielle, you feel amazing," Conrad groans, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. He moves his hand toward where we're joined, stroking my clit in time with his thrusts.

"Grayson…I—" The sentence dies on my lips as another wave of pleasure crashes over me, stealing my breath, my composure, my very sense of self.

I'm building all over again, getting closer with every thrust.

"Come for me," Conrad urges, his pace quickening, relentless in his pursuit of my unraveling.

"Yes!" I cry out, the sound muffled against his shoulder as I teeter on the edge of the abyss.

"Let go," he whispers fiercely, and it's the permission I didn't know I needed.

The world falls away as I shatter, an explosion of light and heat from within, radiating outward in ripples of pure bliss. The intensity is overwhelming.

Conrad doesn't stop there, gripping my waist harder as he dives deeper and deeper into my clenched pussy.

With one final, searing drive, he pulls back, and I feel the hot splash against my stomach to join Grayson's, the tactile proof of their lust. Conrad's groan is guttural, triumphant, and it echoes in the silence of the room. My back arches, a silent cry to the intensity of the moment, the final brushstroke on the canvas of our tangled bodies.

"Fuck, that was—" Conrad starts, but his words trail off, lost to the heavy panting that fills the space between us.

"More than I ever imagined," I finish for him, still quivering from the aftershocks, basking in the warmth of their release on my skin.

"And don't think we're done with you yet," Grayson says, standing and grinning at Conrad as they switch places. "We're just getting started."