Page 24 of Ascendent
Another tear slid down Sasha’s face as Sergey’s lips closed over his own, as he devoured his mouth, as he sought the taste of himself inside Sasha.
At last, he was warm, a burst of heat growing in the center of his chest.You are the sun, and I am caught in your orbit, in your shine, for all time.
Eventually, Sergey pulled back. “Let’s go home.”
“The reception.” Sasha’s voice caught. He coughed, cleared his throat. “You’ll be missed.”
“I don’t care. I want to go home with you. Now.”
“Sergey—”
“I’ve been here for three hours. That’s long enough. With the premiere, that’s six hours I’ve been away from your side.” He kissed Sasha’s nose, the very tip, and then his forehead. “Let’s leave.”
“Not together. We can’t.”
“There are drivers in the basement for you, and for Ilya. In case you wanted to leave early, didn’t want to wait for Ilya.”
Sergey’s thoughtfulness touched him. “I wouldn’t leave without you.” He couldn’t break gravity.
“I’ll make my goodbyes and leave with my security team. You go to the basement, head back to the Kremlin. Meet me in the apartment.”
Nodding, Sasha kissed him again, and then again. “You should leave first. You’re supposed to be alone in here.” He swallowed. “Did you tell Mikhail you were meeting me?”
“No. I said nothing. Didn’t you hide?”
“You cannot hide from your security team, Sergey. Mikhail saw me.” Or did he? Had he turned to ice? Had he been invisible?
Sergey frowned. His gaze darted to the door. “We’ll deal with that later.”
They stepped away, tucked their shirts into their trousers, straightened their jackets, their bowties. Sasha wiped up the come he’d spilled, then washed his hands and ran wet fingers through his hair. There was no salvaging the wrinkles in his tux pants. Hopefully no one would look too closely.
Sergey wrapped him up from behind, a bear hug as he buried his face in Sasha’s neck, pressed his lips to Sasha’s jaw. “I love you. I’ll see you at home.”
And then he was gone, striding from the bathroom like he owned the world, like he was the most popular man in Russia, like he’d had Svetlana Shevchenko on his arm for the entire evening, like he had a movie that lionized his insurgency against Moroshkin’s coup. Like he was a man who had everything in the entire world.
Sasha sagged against the sinks, his head in his hands. His bones vibrated, made his soul tremble. Sergey’s departure had taken the warmth, the heat of the sun, with him. Ice crept inside him, slithered up his spine.
I can never be free of you,Seryozha. Destroy me with your love. I want to die inside your arms.
* * *
He headedstraight to the basement, straight to the garage. With every step, he froze a bit more, felt more of his bones turn to ice. Felt his lungs crystalize.
The drive back to the Kremlin was a neon blur, the GUM and Red Square and a thousand cars’ headlights and brake lights smearing across the dark windows. He didn’t remember stopping, stumbling from the car. Heading up to Sergey’s apartment.
He waited in Sergey’s bedroom, slumped at the foot of the bed. He stared at the floor, at his shoes. He imagined his toes within the black leather, frozen solid. Crystal chunks of ice, completely see through.
Had Mikhail truly not seen him?
Was he already frozen?
Doors banged open. Footsteps. Sasha jerked up. He held his breath.
“Sashunya?”
Sergey. He exhaled, rising on shaking legs. “In here.”
Fast footsteps brought Sergey to his bedroom door. His eyes flicked to Sasha, and the physical weight of his gaze pushed Sasha back, made his breath stutter. He held out one hand––
