Every Knee Shall Bow Book Novels & Stories

I stand, and he drops to his knees. The sight of Knox Voss on his knees in front of me is so disorienting that my brain stalls for a full second because this man does not kneel – kneeling is MY position, kneeling is what he makes ME do, and seeing him on the floor looking up at me with his hands already sliding up the backs of my thighs rearranges something fundamental in my understanding of what’s happening between us.

He said it like it was a complete sentence. He walked over to the couch. He did not sit. He waited. I sat. He sat. Three feet away, on the other end of the couch, the way a man sits next to a person he is not going to touch. He put his hands on his knees. He looked at the bookshelf. He looked at the floor. He looked at the candle. "Knee," he said. "Can I see it." I pulled up the leg of my sweatpants. The knee looked fine. The knee had been fine for days. The knee was the smallest, most inconsequential part of this entire arrangement.

Her tears spill freely as her forehead meets the ground, and I follow—lowering myself until my head presses to the earth as well. I never bowed to you as my king, Varyn. But today, I bow to you with regret. May the moon accept your soul. In a forever of heads bowed to the ground, the funeral seer breathes, “Ease.” We lift our faces from the dust, eyes wet, hearts still. Then again he commands, “Bow.” And we press our heads to the earth once more. Around me, the sound of muffled sobs and gasping tears fills the air like a slow storm.

Luna sat back down on her couch like she was about to watch a show. “On your knees,” she ordered. My heart dropped. I stared at her. “No.” Luna’s eyes narrowed, “What did you say?” “I said no.” My voice cracked, but I meant it. “I won’t kneel for you.” Luna went quiet, then nodded as if she understood. “Okay,” she said softly. “If you won’t kneel willingly… you’ll kneel because you have no choice.” She lifted her hand slightly and the maid yanked my arm hard. My knees hit the floor as pain shot up my legs. I gasped, trying to stand up immediately but one maid pushed my shoulder down.

"Get on my knees?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing from the man I had loved for three years. In front of the entire New York underworld, he wanted his wife to kneel before a mistress and an illegitimate child! "Never." I gritted my teeth, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at him defiantly. Lorenzo narrowed his eyes, a sure sign of his murderous intent. "Vivian, don't make me do this. If you don't kneel, you can kiss your legs goodbye."

Rainwater clung to them, making them glisten. He fixed his eyes on Briella. Under her bewildered gaze, he took a step back with his right foot, slowly bent forward, and bowed. His spine, once perfectly straight, lowered before her. Then—his right knee touched the ground. A single-knee kneel. Then the other leg bent. He knelt. Fully. Briella bit her lip, her heart racing in panic—but why? What was he afraid of? The rain poured harder now, transforming into bean-sized droplets pounding violently from the sky.

Dominick kneeled near me… -It's ok breath just breath baby I’m with you….You are not alone, Please Mathea just breathe.” He begged me with concerned eyes his hand stroke my back, then he brushed with his fingers through his blue hair with not knowing how to help me or what he should do or say to me.

“You’re learning.” His fingers withdrew just as she thought she might fall into them completely. The loss of contact was as intense as the touch itself. “Now,” he said, stepping back slightly, voice cool again, “you’re going to kneel.” Her eyes flew open. “Kneel,” he repeated. “Not as an act of humiliation. As an act of grounding. You will place your hands on your thighs, palms up. You will breathe. You will stay with me.” Shaking, she lowered herself to the carpet. Palms up. Knees spread just enough to feel exposed, but not obscene.

I knelt. The floor grated under my knees; the wood was cool through my robe. I bowed my head until my forehead kissed the planked floor and kept it there. The posture was total surrender—no pride, no posture left to hide behind—because this was not a bargaining of titles or lands. This was something small and brutal: the asking of a favor that might cost me everything.

When he was down on both knees he folded his hands in his lap, lowered his eyes to the floor and bowed his head; the perfect sign of submission. Alexander took a deep breath; damn! He hadn't expected Ash to actually go through with it nor had he expected he would look so breathtaking like this. His Lord half was feeling a growing arousal and need to dominate the kneeling Donna; the sign of his status as a defeated enemy, making the Lord in him want to fuck him further into submission until he wouldn't be able to stand or think of anything else than the fact he now belonged to him. "I guess you do know how to kneel," Alexander conceded, his voice slightly hoarse from growing desire.