On Your Knees Your Highness Novels & Stories

Then an entire cluster near the far wall. The sound of it ripples outward, knees hitting stone, heads bowing, hands pressed to chests in reverence so deep it steals my breath. “Your Majesty,” someone whispers. My heart stutters. I turn slowly to Kael. He looks… startled. Truly startled. “Don’t,” he says quietly, lifting a hand. “You don’t need to kneel, not after what we have all been through.” They kneel anyway. Every single one of them.

She shrieked loudly, kissing the damp fabric and waving it over her head like a trophy. What was so special about it? I thought bitterly. It wasn’t even dry. Julian had been sweating, there was no doubt it would reek. Behind me, the noise suddenly exploded into screams, cheers and whistles. The cheerleaders had noticed Mr. Ashford pulling off his shirt to change into a casual one, the kind required for a coach on the rink. His movements were effortless and unbothered by the attention he was drawing. Even Thea screamed along with them.

One scalding tear slipped free at last and dripped onto the icy ground. I quickly wiped it away in the chaos and tried to get back up on trembling arms. That was when a hand appeared in front of me. It was a big, clean hand that carried a faint scent of herbs. "Are you alright?" A man's cool voice sounded above my head. I looked up and met a pair of calm eyes. The man wore simple gray leather armor. He was tall and slender. It was Frederick Lupine, the Alpha King of the South. He was an Alpha famous for keeping out of worldly affairs and devoting himself to medicine.

He looked at me with the cold, calculating stare of a predator assessing a broken tool. I didn't wait for him to speak. I didn't try to stand tall or salvage any lingering scraps of my pride. I dropped directly onto my knees. The hard stone floor bit sharply into my kneecaps. I lowered my head, staring at the scuffed toes of Cullen’s combat boots. It was the ultimate, total submission. A former king, groveling in the dirt before his rival and the mate he had discarded.

“Oh, here we go…” I couldn’t stop the grin. “Do I have to curtsy? Is there a thing I’m supposed to say? Your Highness, or your Felineness, or…?” “I will bite you.” But her mouth was twitching. “You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?” “I think I have the right, seeing as how you kept it from me.” “Fair enough.” She sat up straight. “On your knees.” “What?” I asked.

I'd originally figured that even if Geoffrey lacked real ability, as long as he knew his place and stayed in line, I wouldn't mind securing him a life of comfort and privilege. But now the realization dawned on me that one could never polish a turd. I walked over to the trash can and threw the chicken soup in, container and all. Geoffrey's eyes widened in fury. "How dare you destroy things in my presence? Kayla, who exactly do you think you're giving attitude to? Try me—I'll divorce you on the spot and leave you penniless!" Valerie chimed in from the sidelines, fanning the flames. "Geoffrey is the one about to rise to fame and fortune, so what are you putting on airs for? Did you really thin

“How may I please my Lords tonight?” The highest-ranking noble, a tall man with a commanding presence playing the role of a duke, rose and approached me. His fingers traced the edge of my neckline, brushing over the swell of my breasts. “A bold little courtesan,” he said, his voice rich with aristocratic arrogance. “On your knees first. Show the court how a proper lady greets her superiors.” I dropped gracefully to my knees on the plush carpet, the silk of my gown pooling around me. One by one, the nobles stepped forward, unbuttoning their breeches to present their cocks.

“Get on your knees.” She moved slowly with dilated eyes. She got onto her hands and knees, her back arching, her ass in the air, and she looked over her shoulder at me, her red curls falling across her face. “Like this?” “Like that.” I moved behind her and lined myself up, pressing the head against her entrance. “Please,” she whispered. “Kielan, please—”

After being away from home for three months, my wife, Victoria Sterling, and our daughter, Sophie Sterling, came looking for me, crying as they begged me to come home. Once I was back, they treated me better than ever. They brought breakfast to my bedside, gave me free rein with their black cards, and when I casually mentioned wanting a new car, three brand-new sports cars showed up the very next day. But when Ethan White, Victoria’s childhood sweetheart and first love, accused me of stealing his design drafts, Victoria didn’t bother asking for an explanation. She smashed her phone against my face and snapped, “What do you have to say for yourself?” Sophie yelled at me too. “Get on yo

He notices and a low chuckle slips past his lips as he takes a step back. “Then down.” He flicks his chin toward the floor. “On your knees.” My breath hitches. My body hesitates, but only for a moment before I sink, palms bracing against the stairs as I kneel before him, my heart pounding like a war drum. “Mm,” he hums, rolling the word slowly as if savoring it. “Look at you. Prettiest debt-payer I’ve ever seen.” My cheeks flame, but my eyes lift, catching his. His smirk only deepens.