“You’ve come a long way since that child on her knees,” he says as if our minds are on the same wavelength. He smoothes a palm down the back of my head. “It’s okay to be unsure. I know you’re untouched and innocent. I’m honored to be the first to touch you.”

Except he’ll do more than touch me. Once again, my attention falls to his pants and the noticeable outline of his erection.

Erection.

I’m not unfamiliar with the word. I know how the male anatomy works. I even know what’s expected of me. As if to confirm my suspicion, he unbuckles his belt and unfastens his pants.

“Unbutton your top, Novalee.”

My fingers visibly shake as I reach for the first button, and it takes three tries before it slips free of the loop. I undo the next two then look at him for instruction, hoping he’ll allow me to stop at showing cleavage.

“Keep going.”

Gulping past the tightness in my throat, I reveal more skin. The material parts, exposing my satin brassiere. Liam tugs on the blouse, one brow arched in silent command, and I let the top slip off my shoulders.

“Take off the undergarment too.”

The urge to beg is intense, a plea for my modesty on the tip of my tongue, and I hesitate a second too long.

“I don’t issue orders twice,” he says, gripping me by the chin. “I’ll make this as easy on you as I can, but this is your only warning.”

His tone is harsh, stabbing like a knife to my gut, and before he can give the command again—and punish me for it—I remove the last piece of material covering my breasts. A draft of air caresses my nakedness, coaxing my nipples to bud. I’ve never felt more vulnerable than I do now, on my knees and naked from the waist up.

Liam draws in an appreciative breath. “Stunning.” He grabs my wrists and forces my hands to my chest. “Play with your nipples.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Don’t question me.”

I’m utterly humiliated as I fondle my nipples, gently rolling the sensitive peaks between thumb and forefinger.

“Good girl,” he breathes, reaching for the stretchy material of his boxer briefs. He exposes himself, and at the first sight of his shaft, my eyes bulge.

“It’s big.”

“You’ll learn to take it.”

I don’t see how. He’s thick and long, and his fist doesn’t cover half the length as he folds his fingers around it. I can’t hide a nervous gulp.

“Will you be gentle?”

With his free hand, he palms my face, the brush of his thumb a caress on my cheekbone. “Compared to some of my brothers, I’ll be merciful.”

And that’s where the gentleness of his touch stops.