Too Human To Be His

3 Careless Rest

I finished cleaning the offices in peace. The group of drunk employees eventually found their unconscious friend and dragged him out, assuming he had just wandered into the wrong office and passed out drunk. I didn’t feel the need to correct their theory—after all, I still had to clean up after them.

To be fair, they’d already done most of the cleaning themselves. All that was left for me was to mop the floors and take out the trash—rattling bottles and leftover snacks included.

By the time I finished, it was close to midnight. As I stepped outside, I noticed snow had started to fall. The streets weren’t completely covered yet, so I hurried to get home before I got snowed in somewhere.

Still, I stopped for a few minutes just to admire the snowfall. The snowflakes fell in large, lazy clusters, dancing gently through the cold night air. It created that special kind of winter magic, the kind that makes you believe in fairy tales and holiday miracles. I tilted my head back, watching the flakes glimmer in the glow of the streetlamp.

It really was beautiful… enchanting, even.

I gave myself a tired little smile and headed toward my car. Tomorrow, I had to clean the Alpha’s mansion—before my school lessons. Which meant I’d need to wake up well before dawn. Luckily, I didn’t have to be at school until the second period. Otherwise, I’d be getting up even earlier.

Once home, I quickly took a shower, threw on my favorite cozy pajamas, and crawled into bed. My body was completely drained, aching for rest—but sleep refused to come.

I tossed and turned, my thoughts galloping through my brain like wild horses across an open field. No peace. No sleep. Eventually, I gave up and decided to relax another way.

Reaching into the back of my nightstand drawer, I pulled out my raspberry-colored little friend and slipped my pajama bottoms down.

It had been so long since I’d had a man… Pathetic, really. Time flies, and youth doesn’t wait for anyone.

The last time someone visited both our city and my v****a, it was Aiden. That was over six months ago. Since then, my only source of release had been battery-operated and rubber-based. And with my love life in a complete state of stagnation, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be inside me anytime soon.

Honestly, maybe I should have given that drunken pup a chance earlier. Everyone would've walked away satisfied. Probably.

Sigh. Good thoughts always come too late. Oh well. I’ve got hands—and a raspberry savior.

It didn’t take long to reach satisfaction. After all, I’d had more than enough time to study every sensitive inch of my own body lately.

I turned on my buzzing friend and ran it along my still-dry folds, letting it linger around my c**t in slow, teasing circles. Moisture began to pool as my body warmed with anticipation. I spread it along my lips and dipped the toy slightly deeper, feeling a warm pulse as blood rushed downward.

Then I slid it in, hitting just the right spots inside, while continuing to play around my now-swollen nub. A few minutes of gentle but insistent thrusting and I came apart, shuddering into the mattress.

It wasn't the same as being with a real man—not even close—but as they say, when there’s no fish, even a crayfish will do.

Still trembling from release, I tucked away my loyal plastic substitute and finally drifted off into the kingdom of Morpheus.

My visit to dreamland was so blissful that I barely managed to crack my eyes open when my cruel alarm shrieked in my ear.

4:30 AM.

I’d barely slept. My body absolutely refused to leave the warmth of the blankets. My eyes burned like they were full of sand, and my mood was even worse.

On full zombie mode, I dragged myself out of bed and quickly got ready—dressing straight into my school outfit so I could head there right after the mansion. A black pencil skirt, a light gray turtleneck, and short-heeled ankle boots. No time for breakfast—not that I could eat this early anyway. My body wanted sleep, not food.

The snow had piled up significantly overnight. I had to dig out my car, but at least the roads were plowed, and I reached the Alpha’s estate without any trouble.

Just as Lakisha promised, the guards let me through with no issue and handed me a special pass.

The mansion greeted me with silence and a bone-deep chill. Not that the heating was off—it worked fine. But the place lacked warmth, that comforting, lived-in feel a real home has. Everything was perfect, pristine—but empty. Lifeless.

And I guess that made sense. A home only comes to life when people live in it—bringing stories, emotions, love, pain, and messes. This house was still a blank slate. No one had truly lived here yet.

In the small servant’s room, I found the uniform prepared for me: a standard dark blue dress, buttoned completely down the front like a housecoat, three-quarter sleeves, a white collar, and an apron. Alongside it were black ballet flats—my size. Brand new, which was nice.

Only problem? My chest. The top three buttons refused to close—my boobs simply weren’t having it.

Fine. I’d wear it as is today and ask Lakisha later if it could be let out in the bust.

Suppressing a yawn, I got to work. Honestly, it was kind of nice that no one lived here. No one messed things up, hovered over me, or scattered stuff around. Everything stayed exactly where it belonged. Just dust and tidying.

And the Alpha even had a robot vacuum-mop combo! It cleaned most of the floors for me—I just had to handle the corners, baseboards, and trickier spots by hand.

Still, robot or not, the house was massive. Room after room. My feet ached, and my head began to pound. Thankfully, I always carried painkillers. I took one and pushed through.

Finally, there was only one room left: the Alpha’s bedroom.

I stepped inside and let out a low whistle. The place was huge. Maybe the Alpha had a size complex?

Dark gray walls were accented with deep green and gilded details. The massive bed was dressed in black silk sheets. There were nightstands on each side, a TV, dresser, an armchair, and—for the love of God—a mirrored ceiling.

Seriously? Who the hell needs a mirrored ceiling? Rich people and their twisted kinks…

Other than that, the decor was painfully minimalistic. There were three doors aside from the main one—one led to a bathroom in dark marble, another to a closet (fully stocked, by the way), and the third to a snow-covered terrace balcony.

The view from the window was stunning: a perfectly maintained yard that bled into a forest in the distance, with a wide river just barely visible beyond.

I dusted everything and set the robot vacuum loose. My head was still pounding, so I decided to lie down for a moment while it worked.

The sheets smelled amazing—earthy pine, smoky wood, and just a hint of tobacco. I closed my eyes, breathing it in, letting the hum of the vacuum lull me…

Suddenly, an enormous weight crushed me into the bed.

My eyes flew open in shock—and there, hovering over me, pinning me beneath his massive body, was a man.

No—not just a man. The man.

Alpha Wayland. In the flesh.

And he was furious.

His chest rose and fell rapidly. His golden eyes burned with feral rage. And the terrifying part? He didn’t say a single word.

That’s when it hit me.

I couldn’t hear the vacuum anymore.

Had I really… fallen asleep?

On the Alpha’s bed?