Page 48 of Ascendent
By the time they were at Sergey’s door, their lips had found each other’s and their hands were exploring beneath jackets, tugging shirts free from their trousers. Sergey cupped Sasha’s face, kissed him and pressed their foreheads together, ground his hips into Sasha’s. Sasha pulled him close, pressed him against the door. Leaned his body against Sergey’s.
Sergey groaned. He ran his hands down Sasha’s back and cupped his ass. Sasha jerked his hips forward. An answering hardness in Sergey’s trousers met his own. He nosed Sergey’s chin to the side, kissed his way down his long neck, down the open collar of his shirt, across his collarbones. Into the hollow of his throat.
“Sashunya, please,” Sergey whispered. “Please—”
He shoved open the door behind Sergey, wrapped his arms around Sergey’s waist, and backed him into the apartment. Guiding him, kissing his throat, his neck, his ear, his hair, all the way to the bedroom. He shed Sergey’s jacket, dropping it by the dining table, pulled his button down off and threw it into a corner. Sergey’s hands were in his hair, sliding over his shoulders, gliding down his arms. Unbuttoning his shirt and stripping him, undoing his belt buckle.
He was burning up, burning alive, so close to Sergey’s naked skin. He was dancing over the bonfire, leaping through the flames, and he was going to burst apart in a puff of mist. Sergey was going to obliterate him.In your arms. My end is in your arms.
They tumbled to the bed, arms and legs entwining, hands sliding through hair, holding each other close as they kissed and breathed as one. Hips locked together, thrusting even through their trousers, their undone flies. Sergey reached for his waist first. Started to shimmy out of his pants. “Please.”
Sasha pulled back. Sergey blinked, his pupils blown, lips swollen and kiss stained. His skinny chest heaved, a maroon flush creeping from his cheeks to his throat and down, past his pecs.
He knew what Sergey wanted.
I can’t. I can’t, not unless Kilaqqi can heal me. What if I infect you too? What if I hurt your soul? What if I turn you to ice? I’m broken, and what if I break you too?
Fear clouded Sergey’s gaze, rolling in like storm clouds over Moscow, a steel haze that dampened the world, that stole the sun. He stilled. Sighed. Opened his mouth—
Sasha kissed him, deeper than before. Tried to pour his own breath into Sergey. His hand landed on Sergey’s, over his hips.
He pushed Sergey’s trousers down.
He watched Sergey’s pulse leap, jump.
“Roll on your side,” Sasha whispered.
“Want to see you—”
“On your side.” He kissed Sergey’s cheek, his eyebrow. “For now.”
Sergey rolled. His back faced Sasha, and he stared over his shoulder, watching. He trembled, his arms, his legs, shaking. Each breath came faster.
Sasha slid his trousers off, his underwear. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand and poured a puddle into his hand. Some spilled as he slicked himself, dribbling over the sheets, his thighs. Goosebumps rose. His skin chilled.
He had to get back. Had to feel his lover’s burn.
He slid down the bed, folding into place behind Sergey. Sergey stared, almost panting, his eyes boring into Sasha. He mumbled, soundless pleas that had no weight. Sasha kissed his shoulder. Held his hip. Lined up their bodies. “Squeeze your thighs together.”
Frowning, Sergey’s breath hitched. “What?”
“Squeeze your thighs together. Keep them tight.” He ran his slick hand between Sergey’s warm legs, rubbing over his balls, his quivering, hard cock. Sergey gasped. His legs clenched.
He kissed Sergey’s neck, his pulse, as he slid his cock between Sergey’s tightly-clasped thighs, rubbing against his perineum and his balls. He thrust and held, as if he’d just entered Sergey’s body. His cock head pushed at the heaviness of Sergey’s sac, nestled in the warm folds of his skin.
Sergey gasped, groaned. He arched back, rolling his head against Sasha’s shoulder, turning his face into Sasha’s. His eyes closed, and his hands reached for Sasha’s hair, his neck, his shoulders. “Sashunya…”
“Lyubov moya,” Sasha whispered. He pulled back. Thrust again. Rocked his hips into the clench of Sergey’s legs, against his balls.My love.He kissed the corner of Sergey’s eye, wrapped his arms around Sergey’s thin chest. One hand dropped, reached for Sergey’s erection.
“I want you so much,” Sergey gasped. “Want to feel your love.”
“Feel it,Seryozha.” He kept rocking, kept driving into Sergey’s body. “I’ve never loved another. You have every part of me.”
Sergey groaned. His eyes squeezed closed, and he arched against Sasha, tried to chase Sasha’s hand and his cock, tried to ride his thrusts and drive into Sasha’s tight fist all at once.
He buried his face in Sergey’s neck and squeezed, thrust, and pulled Sergey tight against him. They were joined from head to toe, faces to necks, elbows to chests, hands in hair, wrapped around each other. As Sasha breathed, Sergey’s chest rose with him. He was as close to Sergey as he could be.
Sweat trickled down Sergey’s spine, droplets that chased every knot and knob of his bones, played in the valley of Sasha’s pecs.Melt me, burn me.
