Alpha's Stand-In Queen

"Turn over. Get on your hands and knees."

Clarence Fisher said this while his tongue was still working over Olivia's clit.

"You said we were just going to fool around. Why do I need to get on my knees?"

"Because, sweetheart, if you won't do that, then help me take care of it yourself."

After Olivia Smith answered, his hand stopped kneading her full breasts. Instead, he grabbed her hand and wrapped it around his cock, moving it up and down fast.

He pushed his cock into Olivia's mouth. She ran her tongue along it, and the burning liquid inside was ready to spill over.

A moment later, his thick, hard cock was fully exposed to Olivia's eyes — deep red and purple, veins standing out along the shaft, a thin thread of clear fluid hanging from the tip. It looked both raw and frightening.

"Listen to me. Get down."

Olivia was a werewolf, not a dog. She didn't want to do this.

But his tongue kept working over every inch of her skin, and as the heat built inside her, she had no choice but to raise her hips like some shameless animal and let him do whatever he wanted.

Olivia flipped over. She planted her hands on the messy sheets, knelt with both knees on the bed, and pushed her ass up high.

The cold air hit her exposed sex, and Olivia couldn't help shivering.

The position made her feel both ashamed and unbearably aroused. She didn't even dare look back to see his face.

A sharp slap cracked through the room.

He brought his hand down hard on Olivia's ass. A bright red handprint bloomed instantly on her pale skin.

The stinging pain made Olivia gasp, and her body jerked forward.

"Spread your legs wider. Push your ass up higher. Are you trying to snap it off?" His expression shifted without warning, and he snapped at her.

Following his demand, Olivia spread her thighs wider and left herself completely open to him.

Without any warning — he didn't even use his fingers to help her adjust — he locked both hands around Olivia's hips, lined himself up, and drove forward in one brutal thrust.

Olivia let out a sharp, broken scream.

This was her first time.

He was too big, too thick.

It felt like her body was being split in two. Her tight, dry walls were forced open, the soft flesh inside scraped raw, sending wave after wave of searing pain through her.

"God, you're so tight."

He groaned out the words, a vein jumping at his temple.

He didn't care how much it hurt. The moment he was fully inside, he started moving — fast and hard.

His hips slammed into her ass over and over, filling the room with the loud, slick sound of skin on skin.

Every time he pulled back, it felt like he was dragging her insides out with him. Every thrust forward drove straight into her cervix.

"It hurts... please... slow down... you're too deep..."

Olivia cried out and begged, fingers twisting into the sheets hard enough to tear them.

"It hurts? Just hold on, sweetheart. You're almost there. It's going to feel amazing."

He kept pounding into her, then bent down and bit into the back of her neck, his teeth sinking deep into her skin.

Harder each time. Deeper each time.

"Tell me. You love it when I do you like this, don't you?"

He seemed to get more worked up by the second. He grabbed a fist of Olivia's hair and yanked her head back, pressing his chest against her back, his ragged breathing loud right next to her ear.

And just like that — between his words and everything his body was doing to her — Olivia came.

He had forced it out of her in the roughest way possible.

Her mind went completely blank. Her body was still shaking, out of her control. But he didn't stop.

He felt her come, and it only drove him harder into a final push.

Three brutal thrusts later, they collapsed together.

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning.

"You said last night we were just going to fool around. But we've already gone all the way, so today we go and complete the final mark. The wolf bond."

Olivia pushed the plate across the long table—the silverware clinked against the porcelain.

Clarence was straightening his designer tie. His fingers went still.

"Vanguard Threshold Group is going public next month. To bring in the right investors from Wall Street, I need to keep up the image of a single man."

"Why do you always refuse to mark me? We just slept together." She stared at the blood pooling on her plate.

"Don't make a scene, Olivia." Clarence looked down at her, his tone flat. "I'll be straight with you. You're just an assistant Beta with no family connections. Even if I marked you, you wouldn't last as the future head of Vanguard Threshold Group. You're not built for it."

A year of hiding their relationship and countless late nights grinding through data.

All of it dismissed in one careless line.

Clarence pressed both hands on the table and leaned forward, his presence heavy and suffocating.

"One more thing. That core data from the Bloodline Fusion Serum — whenever you have a free moment, transfer it under Elodie Turner's name. She's coming back to the country next week."

He straightened up and smoothed his cuffs. "Elodie needs a strong portfolio to get onto the board. Hand over the data, and I'll wire two million from my personal account as compensation."

Two million. For a year of her work. To pave the way for the woman he actually wanted.

Olivia picked up her napkin and slowly dabbed the corner of her mouth. "And if I refuse?"

"You don't get to refuse." Clarence smiled coldly, his eyes carrying the total ease of someone used to getting his way. "I approved the research funding. I gave you the lab access card. Without me, you couldn't even afford a room in the Lower District slums."

The second hand on the wall clock ticked steadily.

"Elodie's family brings in investments worth tens of billions. You're a smart woman. You know what the right call is."

Olivia stood up and tossed the crumpled napkin onto his expensive steak.

"Fine. I'll hand her the data drive tomorrow."

The tension in Clarence's jaw melted the moment those words left her mouth. A satisfied smile pulled at his lips.

"I knew you'd be reasonable." He stepped toward her and moved to kiss her forehead. "Once Elodie settles in, I'll promote you to head of R&D."

Olivia turned her head and avoided the sharp smell of his cologne.

Clarence's hand froze in the air. His expression darkened instantly.

"Don't push it." He pulled his hand back and walked to the entryway. "I won't be home tonight. Tonight's banquet speech — my assistant Olivia — please have it written up and sent to my email."

The door slammed shut hard enough to knock rose petals from the vase.

Once she was sure she heard his car pull out of the driveway, Olivia walked straight into the master bathroom.

She turned on the faucet. Cold water ran over the back of her hand. The face looking back at her from the mirror was blank and still.

For a year, she had worn thick-framed glasses and dull, boxy suits to match what Clarence wanted — a quiet, obedient Beta.

She had come here thinking she could stay off her family's radar. Instead, she had walked straight into a different kind of trap.

Her fingertips found the back of her neck.

Olivia grabbed it and tore it off hard — the polymer barrier she had been wearing disguised as a suppressor patch.

Inside that patch was a gene silencer her family had custom-developed. It kept her royal gland activity pressed down to Beta levels — undetectable even by pheromone scanners. The cost: she had to replace it every day, and tearing it off always left raw marks on the back of her neck. But compared to the humiliation of the past year, that was nothing.

A scent exploded through the small bathroom — aggressive and sharp, like cold pine resin and hard liquor burning all the way down.

The water-grown ivy on the edge of the sink visibly withered and turned yellow in real time.

The bathroom glass groaned under the pressure, fine cracks spreading across the surface.

This was not a Beta's scent.

This was the highest-grade pheromone signature — belonging only to pure-blooded royalty.

Olivia dropped the bloodstained patch into the trash without looking and pulled a black metal case from under the bed.

Palm scan confirmed.

The lid popped open. A military-grade offline mobile terminal sat quietly inside, cushioned in impact-resistant foam.

She powered it on and typed a long string of top-level access codes into the virtual keyboard.

Olivia pulled up the root source files for the Bloodline Fusion Serum and hit enter.

[Command confirmed: Initiating self-destruct sequence and deploying reverse-trace virus to Vanguard Threshold Group's primary server.]

The progress bar started racing.