Iu Knee Novels & Stories

“You've been there for me through the best and the worst, shared my happiness and my sadness, you're the person I want to argue with and wake up next to every day of my life. I can go on for hours about how much you mean to me and how much I love you, but I always believed that actions speak louder than words, so I'll knee before you and ask; Will you marry me, will you give me a lifetime to show you how much I love you?” Aria's body was covered in goosebumps, her whole body felt like it had frozen over. She heard every word he uttered like a siren in the night, but her brain wouldn't function. This wasn't supposed to happen. “I can't..." She didn't realise that the words were out of her mouth till she saw his face fall and the crowd gasped. “What do you mean you can't?” Deagan stood up and took a step towards her, but she stepped back before he could touch her. “I- I just can't, I'm sorry.” Tears welled in her eyes and her heart burned with pain, she knew she was hurting him and that made her heart break even more. ### Aria and Deagan face the test of time as two people from opposing social standings trying to navigate a relationship, standing strong when their families try to tear them apart until the secrets they keep from each other are revealed. Will Deagan win back his girl or is his past too heavy a burden to face? There's a fine line between secrets and lies, until keeping a secret means having to tell a lie...

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.

In the Sinclair pack, I had always been different. Years ago, my grandfather saved the Elder’s life. To repay that debt, the Elder promised that one of his grandsons would become my mate. In my first life, on the night of the Blood Moon, he asked me, “Evelyn, who will you choose?” Blushing, I pointed to the brightest star of the tribe, Andrew Sinclair. But after our wedding, he kept me at a distance. I was confused—until one night, I opened the wrong door. Andrew was on one knee, clutching my cousin Clara’s portrait as if it were his lifeline. His body moved in a way that made my heart twist. My world collapsed. He had never loved me. His heart—his desire—had always belonged to her. Darkness swallowed me, body and soul. My husband lied to me and betrayed the oath we had sworn to the Moon Goddess. The cruel truth broke me, and sickness followed. I died with his child inside me—alone. But the moon gave me another chance. I woke again on that same night. The Elder smiled down at me. Four portraits lay before him. “Evelyn, tonight is your twenty-first rite. Who will you choose?” “You’ve always chased Andrew,” he said kindly. “It must be him—” “No!” The hall fell silent. “Grandfather… I don’t want Andrew.” In panic, I snatched a portrait. “I want him!” The boy on the page wore black. His skin was pale, his lips curved in a mad, crooked smile. William Sinclair. The sick wolf. The one everyone mocked. But I remembered how he had tried to help me find a good doctor. He was the only one who had cared about me when I was dying. And yes—this time, I chose him.

"So you're the famous journalist who goes around snooping out for information from celebrities, huh?" "Y..yes," I managed to utter. Apart from being the man I am going to be interviewing, no one knew he's the reason I've been getting wet dreams almost every night for the past five years. "Who do we have here, brother?" I quickly turned my gaze to the direction of the person who had just spoken, only to be met by three other guys, who looked exactly like the man in front of me. Rumour has it that he lived many lives, and that is exactly what I came to find out, but seeing these three other men looking like another him, I became confused to the point my knee suddenly gave up, instantly. "Hey, hold it in, pretty boy, we won't bite." One of them said, wrapping his arm around my waist just when I was about to fall to the ground. "E.. excuse me, w..who are you?" I asked while staring at all four of them. "You mean, I, or the four of us?" Turstin asked in a deep husky voice. "I think he's confused!" The one holding me said allowed. "Well, we are the Barclay brothers, pretty boy, and my name is Thale," the one holding me said. "Since you want to interview Turstin, we can make you the most famous journalist for free, by letting you interview the four of us," the one standing beside Turstin said. "But that comes with a price, Pretty boy." I took a quick glance at the last one who seemed like he was the youngest of all four. Gael has a secret, and so does the Barclay brothers. What will happen when these secrets find their way out in the open?

Marrying Sebastian Romano had felt like a wish granted too perfectly to be real… until reality crushed it. For two years, Jasmine lived in a blur of champagne, penthouse lights, and a husband who looked at her like she was his entire future. In the third year, the silence arrived. The kisses turned into calendar appointments. The marriage shrank into handshakes and small talk. Then Jasmine found the truth. Sweet messages that were not for her. Hotel bookings that did not include her name. A blonde secretary who did not know shame. Jasmine walked out without looking back. She left her ring, the signed divorce papers, and her ruined heart on their ridiculous king-size bed. What she did not know was that another life had already started inside her. Five years later, Jasmine lived small on purpose. Quiet. Safe. Her child grew up without drama, without the weight of the Romano name. Jasmine promised herself it would stay that way. Until Adrian. Adrian was nothing like the men who used to own her world. Calm where they were cruel, clever without being cruel, steady in a way that felt dangerous only because she wanted to trust it. With him, Jasmine finally stopped feeling like a problem to fix and started feeling like a person to keep. When Adrian dropped to one knee at a glittering Monte Carlo...Jasmine did something she had sworn never to do again. She thought about forever. Then she saw him. Sebastian Romano. The man she had loved, left, and learned to hate in the exact same lifetime. Those cold eyes. That unreadable face. The past she thought she had buried standing three steps away from her fresh start. “Interesting,” Sebastian said. “Your fiancé… happens to be my brother.”

On the day Winter Everhart suffers a miscarriage, her husband, Joshua Stroud, and their son, Terence, are out with his beloved Jessica Lynch. They watch the very performance Winter has always loved. "You're just so unreasonable. What's the point of all this?" "Dad, can you get me a new mom? She's so annoying!" On Winter's birthday, she returns from the hospital only to find Joshua celebrating Jessica's instead. Even Terence, the child she nearly gave her life to bring into the world, pledges to protect the woman who has stolen everything from her. Tears glisten in Winter's eyes as she smiles. Then, with quiet resolve, she walks away from the cage of a marriage that has bound her for five years. Joshua and Terence believe she won't survive without the Stroud family. What they don't expect is that she rises so high that they can no longer reach her. "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud's car design is now number one nationwide—Stroud Group has been completely outshone!" "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud has just won the World Championship in Artificial Intelligence Design!" "Mr. Stroud! Mrs. Stroud has been invited by a foreign president to attend a state banquet!" Regret tears Joshua apart. Dragging Terence with him, he kneels before Winter and pleads, "Honey, please give me another chance! If being your servant is what it takes, I'll do it!" But just beyond the door, a strikingly handsome man kneels on one knee, a leather collar fastened around his neck. Twining a diamond leash around Winter's palm, he vows with his gaze burning with feverish devotion, "My master, from this moment on, I bow to no one but you. Please, take me in."

A unique video went viral overnight. In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender. Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride. Within hours, the video topped various trending charts. People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year. Anya Rossi later posted a message. "I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!" The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations. "A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!" "It's like something out of a novel." "So enviable." I went to my boyfriend to confirm. Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study. “Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.” His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?” Ted chuckled, unconcerned. “So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.” At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely. A month later On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man. Our wedding processions met downtown. According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously. That’s when Ted saw me. I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him. But in another man’s arms. After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.

On campus, he was the most well-behaved student in the entire department. Oversized hoodies, black-rimmed glasses, quiet enough to fade into the background. Even when facing the notoriously strict Professor Elliott, he would only lower his head, clutch his books, and murmur a timid, “Professor.” At night, he became the most intoxicating dancer in the club. He wrapped himself around the pole, bent low, rolled his hips—each movement driving the men below into a frenzy. Bills were stuffed into the strap around his thigh as they shouted his name. To cover his obscene tuition fees, he took a private party offering an equally obscene payout. Inside the VIP room, he straddled the pole, bathed in dim, hazy light, fingers reaching for the final restraint he was meant to undo. Suddenly, the man lounging on the sofa stubbed out his cigar and stood. The light swept across his face— It was Elliott. The very man he feared most by day. He walked onto the stage step by step, then slammed him hard against the pole in full view of everyone. “Can’t even breathe in front of me during the day,” Elliott sneered, “but at night you’re here shaking your ass, begging men to f*k you?” His mentor wrenched his arms behind his back. Hot lips brushed his trembling earlobe, his voice low and dangerous. “Noah,” he murmured, “if you’re that desperate for money… why didn’t you just come to me? How much—per night?” He panicked and tried to struggle, but Elliott forced his legs apart with his knee, pinning him against the cold metal. “Don’t hide,” Elliott said softly. “Now. Take off the rest—right in front of me. And if you perform well…” A pause, deliberate. “I’ll pay you ten times tonight’s fee

Georgia Walker successfully gets married to Fred Seele, the man whom she's had a crush on. For so long, she's been filled with hope and anticipation for her married life. That is, until she overhears Fred's secretive conversation with his widowed sister-in-law, Helena Linden. "Fred, please give me a child." It's at that moment Georgia's tranquil life is shattered. Only then does she realize that her marriage, which she's been painstakingly maintaining, is nothing but a well-scripted drama. Fred's heart already belongs to Helena. Now, Helena greedily yearns for everything Georgia has right now, be it her family, her achievements, or even her future with Fred. Georgia doesn't break down or throw a tantrum at all. She just retracts all of her love and care for Fred quietly and clears the brain-addling fog known as love from her mind. She wastes no time in submitting her resignation letter and a divorce agreement. In fact, she's ready to whisk her child, Sophie Seele, far away from their biased husband-slash-father. Later on, Georgia shifts her focus to her career. At the same time, her admirers begin growing exponentially. A handsome diplomat, a devoted vice hospital dean, and Georgia's biggest fan continue to safeguard her from life's dangers and challenges. That's when Fred finally realizes how much he's been neglecting Georgia. The sight of the divorce agreement acts like a wake-up call to him. Finally, he realizes that Georgia, the woman who has loved him deeply for so long, is already bent on divorcing him as soon as his own scales start tipping in Helena's favor. When Georgia finds herself in a situation where an admirer has already sunk down on one knee and proposed to her, Fred pulls her into his arms with red-rimmed eyes. "I haven't even signed the divorce agreement yet! Are you trying to commit bigamy, Georgia?"

[MATURE CONTENT: DARK REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE] A rough hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise when I'm pushed against the fence. A muscular thigh pushes between my legs, and I stare at a red eyed Haeden. "Haeden?" It comes out on a heavy exhale. His pupils dilate, and I squirm against him as he presses even closer. "Fuck," He tangles his fingers into my hair and I cry out in pain. He tilts my head back not once loosening his hold on me. He leans in and forces his tongue down my throat.  He produces a deep groan that vibrates through me. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip. He tilts my head and licks a trail up the length of my neck. "Haeden," I whisper, my voice thick. He finds my pulse and sucks, teeth grazing along my tendons.  "Do you know how much I hate you?" he hisses into my ear, "Yet here I am, going crazy after seeing you dance with Ivy like that." His voice is husky. I gasp when he bites me, the points of his teeth digging into my skin. "We were just dancing," I whisper. He scoffs and presses his knee tighter against me. "You're fucking adorable, but you must be a niave little bitch if you think that didn't affect me, Stone, or Kingston," he growls into my ear. *** Ariella went from prized virgin to psycho pariah in less than a day. Her father, the Pastor of a church, mass murders a group of it’s members. She's the one to catch him red handed, literally.  She becomes an outcast, with a target pinned to her. Making unlikely friends with delinquents, Ariella gives a sacrifice. Psychopathy is hereditary. Stone, Haeden, and Kingston just want to see if it's true.