The Male Lead Knelt Before Me Novels & Stories

Then, without a word of introduction, without so much as a glance at Draven or the Priestess or the Elders watching in stunned silence, he lowers himself to one knee. In front of me. In front of the entire pack.

I want to explain, to tell him that he is wrong, but before I can, he lets go of me again, standing a few steps away with his hands in his pockets. “Kneel!" My body moves on autopilot, obeying his command without question. I kneel in front of him as he steps closer, unbuckling his belt. Is this what he wants…? My eyes dart to his face, which is set like a marble statue—unmoving, unfeeling— and then back down, towards his throbbing hard member. It is clear what he wants me to do; and so, taking a deep breath, I open my mouth and take him in, my lips wrapping around his hardness.

I get the fact that he's strong but he shouldn't make use of his strength on carrying me like a sack of rice! "Hey! Put me down this instant! Jean Pierre Morris!" I rammed on his back again and again in hopes that he will let me down but I'm only wasting my energy. In the end, I gave up and let him bring me to the library. 'It was humiliation, you annoying male lead! I thought you were a gentleman but where the heck your gentleness gone to!' And so until we came to the library, all people we passed by looked at us in disbelief. Not anyone did this but this male lead. Of course, anyone would be shocked.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt a little lost. Moe came to kneel down in front of me. He was kneeling! I was the submissive, so this was weird. I couldn't wrap my head around this turn of events. His next words had me reeling.

So why was I here now, tending to his wounds like this? My fingers trailed along his back in slow, circular motions, more focused on the rise and fall of his breathing than the task at hand. When I leaned forward to reach a bruise lower down, my foot slipped. I tripped. Before I could fall, a firm hand caught my waist. It was Mr. Ashford. He leaned me back against his table, the solid wood pressing into my spine. I was still too close to him and my gaze drifted shamelessly over his body. His abs and chest. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

he called out softly. He didn't draw a blade. He didn't make a sudden move toward me. Instead, he took three slow steps forward and dropped to one knee before me in the damp grass. His head was bowed low, his gaze fixed on the dirt near my shoes. His hands were open, resting on his thighs, trembling like dry leaves in an autumn gale. It was a posture of total surrender. The crown prince of the Crescent Moon pack, a man who used to demand everyone bow before his feet, was kneeling in the mud of an enemy garden.

I looked back at the leader; his pale face, more than his eyes, seemed to look back. Then, without another word, he knelt.

The smoke curled up into the rafters. "Come here," he ordered. I hesitated, then walked over to him. I didn't sit. I stood in front of him, feeling exposed. "Kneel," he said. I looked at him, my heart hammering. "Julian..." "Kneel," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. Slowly, I sank to my knees on the dirty wooden floor. I was level with his waist. "Take it out," he commanded, exhaling a plume of smoke.

He apologized, like he knew he was playing his final card. "I’ll be quiet, I promise," he murmured, releasing me. I turned to face him. "Kneel." My voice was softer, but firm. He looked at me for a moment, but didn’t hesitate. Slowly, he knelt in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. I sighed, feeling the control fall into my hands. He was strong, imposing, but there, on his knees, he was vulnerable. And I didn’t know if that gave me power or just an aching need for revenge.

was now standing in front of me like he had bled for this moment. For me. And suddenly I felt like I couldn't breathe. "You don't... mean that," I whispered, but my voice shook. I didn't even believe my own words. He stared at me — that same feral, obsessed stare he always gave me when he thought I wasn't looking. And then he did something I didn't expect. He knelt in front of me. Zayan Khan, the devil himself, on his knees.