Page 50 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

As the time draws nearer, a nervous anticipation builds, causing butterflies to erupt in my belly every time I think of what might happen tonight.What I’m hoping will happen tonight.

Archer has been so patient with me. He has never once pressured me or pushed me beyond my boundaries.

It’s crazy to know someone for such a short amount of time but be able to trust him in ways I haven’t with anyone else.

We have been taking our time learning and exploring each other in almost every way imaginable, but we still haven’t gone all the way. I’m hoping that tonight, though, that will all change.

For the first time ever, I feel excited about the possibility of having sex—something I have never found enjoyable before—and I know Archer is the biggest reason for that.

He likes to try and convince me he’s some evil monster, but I don’t believe that. I don’t know why he thinks that way about himself or what sins he’s committed that makes him feel unworthy of being loved, but it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s too late for that. I have fallen so fast and so hard for him, I’m afraid there’s no coming back for me.

I have come alive under his touch, and he has helped heal things inside me I never even realized were broken.

My fingers trail across the custom bookcases he had built as a surprise for me, bookcases that he filled with new books he bought to replace the ones that were destroyed or damaged in the break-in.

Would a bad man do that?

We haven’t addressed his past. He hasn’t brought it up and I haven’t pushed, figuring he will talk to me when he’s ready, but I can’t imagine there’s anything he could say that would change the way I feel about him.

I put the last pin in my hair, securing my curls in place, and remove the dress from the hanger. The silky material glides up over my skin like a gentle caress. It fits my body perfectly, hugging every line and curve in a way that is extremely flattering and makes me feel incredibly sexy.

I hear the click of the door as it closes behind me.

When I look into the mirror, the breath gets trapped in my lungs.

Archer stands in a dark navy suit that clings to his muscular frame. He looks like pure sin as he stalks across the room to where I stand. I try to turn around, but he holds me in place with a firm hand on the curve of my waist.

“What…?” I start to ask, but I trail off when I look up, meeting his molten gaze in the mirror. He has this wild look in his eyes that has my breaths coming faster.

“I significantly underestimatedhow good that dress would look on you,” he rasps in my ear as his hungry eyes roam over body, eating up my reflection.

The hand at my waist smooths over the front of my hip down to my exposed thigh before disappearing under the high slit in the skirt.

His rough fingertips trail up my inner thigh higher and higher, hissing through his teeth when he finds my bare center, already wet and aching for his touch.

He leans into me, and I can feel his hardening erection against my backside.

“Remind me to apologize to Jayce, ‘cause I’m afraid we are going to be very, very late,” he whispers before slowly sliding one long thick finger inside me, pumping in and out a few times before pulling out and bringing it to his mouth to suck it clean.

My cheeks flame, and I fight the urge to squirm at the intensity of such an intimate action, but it’s not shame or embarrassment I feel. Instead, I find myself turned on and a tiny bit curious.

Archer tilts his head as he watches my reaction.

“You like that,” he states. I nod.

He sinks his finger back inside me, coating it with my arousal before bringing it to my mouth, smearing it across my bottom lip.

“You want to taste?” I don’t know why, but for some reason I do.

My tongue darts out as I open my mouth, and he slips his middle finger between my parted lips. I twirl my tongue around his finger before sucking on it hard. Thetaste is not at all what I expected but not unpleasant either.

“I told you, you taste delicious,” he purrs low in my ear.

He removes his finger with a pop, trailing it across my collar bone to the thin strap on my shoulder.

“Look at you,” he says, dragging it down before doing the same with the other strap. The silky fabric puddles at my waist before gliding smoothly to the floor.

I stare into the mirror at my reflection, taking in the woman before me. My green eyes are bright, almost feverish, cheeks flushed. A few stray curls have fallen from my updo to frame my face.

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