Page 78 of Ascendent
They pulled to the back entrance of the Kremlin. Someone was waiting there, in the doorway, in the shadows. The headlights swept across him, illuminating a face—
Sergey.
Sasha almost didn’t wait for the SUV to stop. He ripped open the door as the brakes squealed and hit the ground running. Sergey met him halfway, crashing into Sasha and wrapping his arms around him, squeezing like he wanted to crush Sasha into his body.
“Sashunya!”
He couldn’t speak. He buried his face in Sergey’s neck, held him as tight as he could. Rocked back and forth, inhaling Sergey’s scent.
Yuri beeped the SUV’s horn twice and drove off.
“Yuri and Mikhail.” Sasha kissed Sergey’s pulse. “They’re—”
“Ilya told me.” Sergey ran a hand over Sasha’s head, through his hair. “Dr. Biryukov called.”
Sasha pulled back. “And?”
“You were right,” Sergey whispered. A smile split his face in two. “Grisha Utkin wasn’t infected. Whatever escaped from that lab died at Andreapol, along with everyone there.”
Sasha hauled Sergey close again, this time kissing him, pressing their lips together until he thought he could merge their cells. Sergey’s tongue slipped against his, snaking, dancing, caressing his own. He moaned and spun Sergey, backing him into the darkness, into the doorway. He pressed his body weight against Sergey and felt Sergey’s hardness brush his own.
In moments, they were upstairs, taking the back stairwells, the service passages through the Kremlin. Sasha kissed him against every wall, pushed him against the railings, the doors. Sucked his jaw and then his collarbone on the stairs. Ground their hips together as he sucked Sergey’s tongue when he pressed Sergey against his apartment’s door.
Sergey shoved open the door behind his back. They stumbled inside.
Sasha grabbed him. Undid his tie and stripped his shirt, undoing the buttons only enough to rip it over his head. Got his belt open one-handed, his fly, his zipper, and shoved his pants down as he dropped to his knees. Sergey skittered backward, falling against the hideous gold dining table. Files went flying, papers raining to the floor around Sasha.
He looked up and held Sergey’s stare. Lowered his mouth, wrapped his lips around Sergey’s cock.
Perfection. Utter perfection. Bliss rocketed through him, lines of lightning that tingled his nerves, that shot fireballs through the fibers of his being. He groaned, and his eyes slipped shut, the heady, heavy taste of Sergey filling his mouth, his nose. This was what he craved. Sergey, all of Sergey. Him pleasing Sergey, hearing those moans falling from Sergey’s mouth, that curse, that shimmy of his thighs. Feeling Sergey’s hand slide through his hair. Cup his jaw. Sergey’s thumb brushed his cheek, touched the bulge where his cock pushed against Sasha’s skin.
“Sasha,” Sergey gasped. “Want more. Want you.”
He swallowed Sergey, basking in the taste, the fullness, the strangled sounds Sergey made as he white knuckled the edge of the dining table and went on his tiptoes. Sasha slid off with a wet smack, smiling up at Sergey as he rose. Sergey wilted, almost collapsing, and Sasha grabbed him around the waist, swung him and lifted him into his arms.
A stunned look broke over Sergey’s face. He tipped his head back and laughed. “You carrying me over the threshold?”
Sasha frowned.
“It’s a wedding tradition. The husband carries the bride into the bedroom.”
He felt his face flush, felt the blood warm his cheeks. But, he stepped forward, walking with Sergey draped in his arms into the bedroom. Sergey swallowed. Sasha watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall.
He laid Sergey out on the bed, stripping his trousers and underwear, his socks and his shoes. Sergey’s toes wiggled, and he kissed the top of his bony, arched foot. Kissed his ankle, the inside of his knee. The thin hairs on his thigh, the fold of skin where his leg met his crotch. Sergey shuddered, arched. His cock strained, the purple head almost trembling against his concave belly.
Sasha slid back and stripped. His pullover, his undershirt. Sergey’s gaze landed on the leather wrap around his belly as he undid his fly.
“What happened?”
“I’ll show you later.”
“Are you okay?”
Naked, Sasha crawled back into bed, sliding up Sergey’s body, their thighs, their hips, their bellies, their chests, and then their cocks pressing together. Sergey shuddered, jerked. Grabbed Sasha’s shoulders and squeezed, ran his hands down Sasha’s back.
Nails dug into his skin. He gazed into Sergey’s eyes, into his perfect face. Laugh lines etched into Sergey’s cheeks, into the corners of his eyes. His rosy lips were open, waiting, every particle of him suspended in breathless anticipation of what Sasha said next. “I’m home. I’m perfect.”
Sergey grabbed him, wrapped his arms and his legs all around Sasha and pulled him into a kiss, a hug, a grapple. A possession. Sasha wound his arms around Sergey, rolling them over until Sergey was astride him. He held Sergey close, thrust his hips up. Kept his arms around Sergey’s shoulders, one hand buried in Sergey’s hair. Kissed him, deeper than he ever had.
