He bucks against me hard, driving his steely erection in deep. Screaming in absolute joy, I ride him back, earning his hot release.
“Fucking holy hell,” Lane groans, grabbing my painted tits and pulling my slick body against his. He pumps me twice more, expelling his seed until it drips out of me. I give one last moan as he pulls out, leaving my body feeling woefully empty. Everything hurts, but I still want more.
Lane unbuckles my gag and tosses it aside. Gathering me in his arms, he holds me upright until I catch my breath. He wipes a cloth across my forehead, cleaning away sweat and paint until I can open my eyes again.
“Thank you, sir. That was amazing.”
He kisses my cheek and brushes my hair out of my face.
“It was. I’ve never come so fucking hard.”
I laugh. Other guys probably say that a lot, but after what we just did, I believe him.
Lane unties me from my chains and carries me into the shower. We laugh at all the paint smeared all over us, but I sigh in regret as it all washes down the drain.
When I wake up, we’re together on the mattress in the former news control room, his arms wrapped around me. I’m sore in ways I didn’t know it was possible to be sore, but otherwise I feel good. Well-rested, even.
“What time is it?” I ask. “I have work at ten.”
“It’s early. You’re fine.”
“Did you sleep?”
He sits up, lifting me with him.
“A little. I was up for a while.”
I laugh, rising to my feet. The endeavor hurts, and I wobble for a second, but I manage to stay upright.
“After all that? You couldn’t sleep?”
He grins.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about us.”
Aww.
“That’s sweet, Lane.”
He gets up, finally, and takes my hand.
“I’m reconsidering the issue of what will happen if our relationship comes out.”
I freeze.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m wondering if we should disclose the truth ourselves, rather than risk someone finding out.”
Oh.
“Wouldn’t that, like, get you fired?”
He shrugs.
“Possibly. I could ask Mundell to grant me a sabbatical until you’ve finished school.”
“Would he do that?”