Jenna Hamilton Awkward

Kael was raised on one unshakable belief: fated mates were a weakness. Stories of alphas losing their minds, their control, and eventually their lives over mates had been passed down like cautionary tales. His great-grandfather had been one of them, brought to ruin by the unbearable loss of his mate. Kael’s grandfather had made sure that never happened again, enforcing strict laws which prioritized strength over sentiment. The pack thrived under that discipline. No one bonded. No one lost themselves. Kael believed in those laws. He wanted to believe. But wanting and doing weren’t exactly the same thing. Now, standing face to face with his fated mate, he was at a crossroads. Accepting them could fracture everything he was taught to protect. Rejecting them might break something in him that he would never be able to fix. Either way, the consequences were inevitable and permanent. Max never asked for much out of life. Just to finish her endless list of chores quickly so she could go to school, where the world felt wide and full of things to learn. Existing quietly had always been her way, keeping her head down, staying out of trouble, and doing her best to be invisible. But nothing about her life was simple.The most popular boy in school suddenly seemed interested in her for reasons she couldn’t understand. He was good looking, admired by all and magnetic, while she was awkward, quiet and unimportant. Soon, Max would find out that she wasn’t so small after all, and her life, every strange, shadowed part of it, was just one piece in a much bigger puzzle. And Kael? He wasn’t just the school’s golden boy. He was the beginning of everything.

“Shh, little girl,” he growled, teeth catching my bottom lip. I fought the moan, but he circled my clit, my hips jerked helplessly against his hand. Then he pushed my panties aside and sank two thick fingers inside me. I soaked his palm, knees buckling as tremors wracked me. “That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered against my ear. I did. Waves crashed through me while he held me up, stroking gently, murmuring filthy praise that made it sweeter, deeper, more shattering than anything I’d ever felt with a woman. I’m a lesbian. I’ve always known it, claimed it shamelessly. I’ve mapped women’s bodies with my mouth, hands, loving every touch and gasp. My best friend’s tongue between my legs has made me come countless times. The only man I tried, my ex, was awkward, unsatisfying. I swore off them forever. I love women. I love my best friend. So why does this man, her father, the one I should never want make me wetter with one stroke than she ever has? Why am I aching for his cock, pushed inside me, thrusting relentlessly, filling me, ruining me in ways no woman could? Why does bending over his desk for him feel like the right thing to do? One forbidden touch. One devastating truth: I might never want another woman again. When I rejected the vice chancellor's advances, my best friend's obsessive aunt, she threatened expulsion. My friend took me to her father, the college owner. One look at his body and I was lost. That night in their home, hiding in the kitchen while watching him cook, I touched myself, craving what is forbidden. Will my best friend discover my sudden addiction to her father? Will her aunt ever stop wanting me?