Page 49 of Ascendent
The night lasted hours and lasted moments. He kissed every inch of Sergey’s skin he could reach. Left bruises on his neck, his shoulders, the juncture of his neck and his back. Sucked his ears, kissed every hair on the back of his head. Breathed in the scent of Sergey’s sweat, ran his hands up the arch of Sergey’s chest, tweaked his nipples. Felt every shudder and shake of Sergey’s body against his own. Drove his cock in and out of Sergey’s thighs, against his crotch, against his balls, until Sasha was nothing but steam, evaporated ice and soul held together by Sergey’s hands and his breathless whispers of endless love.
Sergey clenched, and then clenched harder, and Sasha stroked him, twisted, stroked again. With a scream, Sergey erupted, spilling himself over Sasha’s hand as he arched and twisted, almost rolled out of Sasha’s hold. Gasping, he collapsed, and then faced Sasha with wild eyes. His come spilled across his thigh, his hip.
It burned Sasha’s hand, hot enough against his skin that he thought his bones were melting. Like coming out of frostbite, his hands over a drum fire. Sergey, his love, burned him.
He grabbed himself as Sergey kissed him, held his face and kissed him deeply. It didn’t take long. A few strokes, and he was over the edge. Sergey on his lips, on his skin, the smell of him in the air. It was a wonder he’d lasted as long as he had. He groaned and spilled himself onto Sergey’s skin, his hip, his taut belly.
Sergey gazed at him like an admirer would stare at a priceless piece of art, a Bryulov or an Aivazovsky. Like a migrating dove stared at her summer lands, like a desert welcomed rain. He felt inadequate beneath that look, completely unable to live up to the hope, the cherishment, of that gaze. His belly button puckered. His blood chilled.
A kiss, and he came back to life. A reprieve. He nuzzled his forehead against Sergey’s and folded their bodies together, long limbs entwined, hands laced together.
“Thank you,” Sergey whispered. “That was amazing.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“You gave me something to cherish while you’re away.”
All at once, Sergey’s smile fell. Fear clouded his eyes again. He took a breath, held it. “Come back to me,Sashunya. Come back. Please?”
He couldn’t make a promise he didn’t know if he could keep.Will I even survive this trip? Will I turn to ice without your warmth? Will I shatter on the wind? Will every atom blow away? If there’s a part of me that remains, I’ll find you again. I’ll be the snowflake on your eyelash. The wind in your hair, the breeze that caresses your cheek.
“I’ll always be with you. No matter what.”
Sergey pressed his forehead to Sasha’s and closed his eyes. Sasha watched silent tears build in Sergey’s eyelashes.
His heart ached. His bones chilled, and then his blood. He was so cold, so painfully cold.
Sergey fell asleep with his face cradled in Sasha’s neck, holding on to Sasha like he’d never let go. Sasha stayed awake, stroking his back, trying to cling to the warmth of his love as he counted his own slowing heartbeats, each of his own shaking breaths. Frost clouded his vision, made the world turn white.
Always and forever with you,lyubov moya. No matter what.
Before dawn, he slipped from Sergey’s bed and pulled on his clothes. Dark trousers, a sweater, and Sergey’s new wool coat. His duffel was already packed.
Sometime, Sergey had placed a charged satellite phone on top of his duffel. Russian cellular service, beyond the Urals, was abysmal. The silent message was clear.Take this, and stay in touch. Come back to me.
Sasha left the satellite phone on his pillow. Sergey exhaled in his sleep, as if could sense Sasha’s presence. Sasha turned and headed out.
He looked back once before he left. Sergey reached into his empty spot, cradling the crater he’d left behind. He pushed his face into the sheets, inhaled. “Sasha…”
All of his warmth fled, falling away as the ice climbed up his bones. “Ya lyublyu tyeba.”
I love you.
Chapter Ten
Sergey nursedhis fourth cup of coffee as he read the most recent economic reports from his Cabinet. Figures swam before his eyes. He needed to understand it all, take in just how fucked his country was ending up. Some regions were able to export their resources for needed imports. Others were not. The EU was dithering over how to help, what kind of aid to offer. The EU, so full of talk, so bereft of action. His people needed help. He could only juggle so many chainsaws at once.
Sasha.
Sighing, he slumped forward, his head in his hands.
His thoughts were consumed by Sasha.He left. He left again, after he said he wouldn’t.
No, this is just a trip. He’s going to be back.
He never said he was coming back. He never said the words.
He left the sat phone. And he didn’t have a return flight to Moscow.
