I peeked over my shoulder since my back was to the room as Rich carried me.

The walls were decorated with periwinkle wallpaper that had a dark-gold filigree print. Each of the six arched windows taking up three of the bedroom’s walls were draped by long, heavy panels of dark purple while another chandelier, this one a mix of crystal and candle, hung from the black lacquered ceiling that matched the wooden floors.

Braced against the furthest wall was a large four-poster bed made of black iron and an elegantly carved headboard.

Jericho immediately started for it.

I looked around as he crossed the large room. His sneakered feet were silent, but without carpeting, and thanks to the high ceiling, there was still a soft echo as he walked. When he reached the bed, instead of laying me on it, he swung around until I was facing the bed instead of the door. He then dropped down, draping his legs over the foot of the bed as he lay on his back.

His breathing began to deepen immediately as I felt his grip on my ass loosening.

“Is this your bedroom?” I asked before he could fall asleep. It didn’t seem like his style.

Eyes closed, he confirmed my suspicions when he sleepily shook his head no. I tried to climb off him so he could sleep in peace, but his arms tightened around me, a silent order to stay put.

Five maybe ten minutes passed with me lying on his rising chest and grinning at him as he fought to stay awake. I didn’t understand why he bothered considering how late it was, but he’s never looked more adorable to me.

Me, on the other hand, I was too excited to sleep.

I toyed with the black hair falling over his bunched brows as I began to sing softly to him. Rosalie was the only one I’d ever done it for whenever she used to have trouble sleeping. It didn’t seem to be working on Jericho, though, as the troubled dip between his brows grew deeper. I knew each time he clenched his teeth as if he were restraining or frustrated with himself as the muscle in his pale cheek ticked.

Whatever had been keeping him awake most nights and moody during the day these past three weeks had not gone away.

In the morning, I vowed to get to the bottom of it, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. They couldn’t expect me to bear my demons while they kept their own hidden under lock and key.

As I silently brooded, Jericho’s eyes started to drift shut again when Houston walked into the room.

Eyeing him over my shoulder with the side of my face in my palm, I watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and admired his abs flex as he did it. I liked that none of them were overly muscular. What they did possess made it more than clear that they were strong and able men.

After tossing his shirt on the floor, he made his way over to the bed, his amused gaze shifting from me to Jericho and back again.

“You’re not going to let the man sleep?” he teased.

“It’s not me. It’s him,” I told Houston as he towered over me while I stared down at Jericho. “I tried singing, but he’s stubborn.”

I felt the bed dip under Houston’s weight as he braced his knee on the mattress next to me, and then he was pulling my head back using my hair as his personal reins and kissing my lips.

“So wake him up.”

As if his tone hadn’t made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion, Houston lifted me off Jericho and the bed until I was standing in front of him with my back to his chest. His hands then gripped the hem of the distressed, black cotton dress I’d worn to our show tonight over my head.

I immediately shivered as the cool air brushed my skin, and I stood there in only my panties, garter, and stockings.

I hadn’t bothered with a bra tonight.

Houston made quick work of my garter and panties but left my black thigh-high stockings on my legs. The three of them seemed to like whenever I wore them because they always took off everything except them, so I made a mental note to buy and wear them more often.

I tilted my head back, resting on Houston’s shoulder when his hands cupped my breasts from behind, and he began kissing my neck. His chest was hard and warm against my back, and the comforting aroma of vanilla gave me no choice but to lean against him.

I always felt like I could rule the world when I was in Houston Morrow’s arms.

His fingers slowly drifted down my stomach, making the muscles quiver in anticipation, and he didn’t stop until he was possessively palming the smooth, bare skin of my pussy in a show of ownership.

“Yours,” I gasped around the cherries drenching my tongue. I knew what he wanted to hear.

Moving my hair over my shoulder, Houston kissed my nape in response.

He didn’t make me beg before he moved to my clit, teasing and circling until my back arched and then tunneling two of his fingers inside of me. He groaned the moment he was knuckle-deep and discovered how wet he’d gotten me.

Suddenly, I felt like I’d been caught red-handed.

I knew just by the sound that poured deep from his chest that I had a long night ahead of me.

“Houston—”

“Sit on his face.”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t respond.

Houston was still fucking me with his fingers when my gaze shot to Jericho, who watched us through half-lidded eyes.

He was no longer fighting sleep.

By the second, Rich was becoming more and more alert.

A shiver shook my body, but I was quickly distracted from my unease when Houston nipped my shoulder harshly and without warning. I had no doubt he’d left a mark. Letting my skin go, he placed his lips near my ear.

“I don’t want to ask again.”

As soon as I took a trembling step forward, Houston let me go. I missed his fingers inside of me even as I felt his eyes watching to make sure I obeyed.

I climbed onto the bed that, until now, I hadn’t realized was pretty high, and crawled my way up Jericho’s body. As soon as our lips were lined, we met each other halfway for a kiss that rattled my soul.

I loved Jericho’s kisses.

They were soft and sweet and slow.

And they smelled like freshly bloomed berries.

Unlike Houston and Loren, he always let me set the pace, and somehow, I still gave him all of me anyway. I trembled once again as a slash of fear sliced me open without warning or cause.

I always assumed he was the safest, but…what if I was wrong?

What if Jericho was the most dangerous of all?

He broke the kiss.

“As much I love your lips, it’s your pussy I want to kiss. My face, Braxton. Sit on my face.”

Preoccupied by the need in his voice, I stared down into Jericho’s eyes. Those silver pools were like quicksand. You don’t know you’re screwed until you’re already in too deep.

A whimper I hadn’t intended slipped out of me, and then I was rising onto my knees. I heard footsteps, and when I peeked over my shoulder, it was in time to see Houston slipping out of the room. Strong hands gripped my ass while I was still frowning at the door, and then Jericho was yanking me forward until I was straddling his head.

Apparently, he’d grown impatient waiting.

My yelp was cut short, a moan replacing it when I felt his felt tongue swipe my slit. Eyes fluttering closed, I lowered myself more as my thighs spread when he began to plant open-mouth kisses on my lower lips.

“Oh, Jericho, fuck,” I moaned when he eventually turned to my clit. Those slow teasing licks were going to send me to the looney bin.

Having mercy on me, his attention returned to my entrance, and my mouth fell open at the feeling of his tongue stiffening as he burrowed it inside of me as far as it would go. Pulling free, he repeated the move, and in and out, his tongue darted. I made a sound I didn’t recognize as I began winding my hips. I was fucking his face in earnest now, and that was all it took for his easy rhythm to end.

Needing something to hold on to when I felt my control slipping, I fell forward, my hands clutching the sheets as he began alternating between attacking my clit and lapping up every drop of arousal that poured out of me.

Jericho was greedily feasting between my legs as if he hadn’t been falling asleep mere moments ago.

The more aggressively he ate me, the wilder my hips moved until I was riding his face with complete abandon. Every so often, I’d wonder if I was hurting him, and then he’d do something with his tongue that made all thoughts, fears, and reasoning flee.

“Jericho, baby, I’m going to come,” I screamed.

I couldn’t recall if I’d ever been a screamer. I’d cry, I’d moan, I’d whimper, yes…but I’d never been a screamer.

Jericho made a sound of encouragement just before he gripped my ass with both hands, keeping me in place as he attacked my clit like he was a starved man and I was dessert.

I’d never felt anything like it.

When I came, I didn’t just lose control of my body.

It felt like I’d left it entirely.