Page 14 of His Stolen Omega

He was bent over the end of a table, wrists locked together on either side. His fingers were already gripping the edge of metal, noises spilling past his lips, strange and as if coming from someone else.

His legs shook, muscles aching, chest heaving, and his dick hung heavy and felt raw and yet needy all at once.

The machine he caught a glimpse of was still working him open, pumping in and out of his body with quick, deep motions that had his hips banging against the table bruisingly.

He might have screamed the word help, or stop. Maybe both.

Maybe neither.

He blacked out again before he could be sure.

Elm was on his stomach again the next time. Lying flat, but still with that torture device going at his rear end.

“Round thirteen raised his temperature,” that voice from before said somewhere far away sounding. “He went feral for about a half hour or so. Seems to be stabilizing with the fifteenth knot.”

“Fifteen?” a new voice caused Elm to startle, a part of his psyche feeling some type of way about knowing there was more than one person there, witnessing this. “Are you trying to kill him?”

“Omegas typically go an average of three days during their first heat,” the first voice explained calmly. “The machine is set on a timer. It knots every thirty minutes—”

“I’m sorry,” the second voice, female, asked incredulously. “What?”

“Every half hour—”

“Alphas don’t last that long.”

There was a brief pause and then, “I do.”

“The average male alpha can go fifteen minutes during penetration before coming, Levi. You’ve completely wrecked the data.”

“Should I start again?”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Butcher.”

“I don’t appreciate you messing up such an important experiment.”

“Get out.”

Elm was glad to slip into oblivion that time.

“Stop wailing, you’re giving me a migraine,” the voice dragged Elm from the darkness.

He blinked, finding himself on his back, with his legs lifted high in the air. His ankles had cuffs on them which were attached to chains dangling from the ceiling. The position kept him spread wide and resting with most of his weight on his shoulders and upper back.

The machine pummeling his insides altered course, skating across that bundle of nerves which was so over stimulated by this point, the result was a shocking wave of electricity that had him screaming hoarsely.

“Seriously?” the voice growled, and a second later a man was standing at Elm’s side, face hovering over his.

No, not a man.

An angel.

An—

That probably wasn’t right either actually.

Did angels probe people with sex devices?