Page 85 of Ascendent
He wanted to love Sergey forever. And then love him again, rebirth himself out of the same star that had created them, spend another four billion years searching for this love, because this, this moment, this love, was worth it. It was worth everything. Sergey’s love, his love for Sergey. His whole life had led to this moment, meant everything for this moment.
He stayed still, letting Sergey adjust. Letting their bodies realign, rejoin. Remember. Sergey shifted. Writhed. He kissed Sasha until he couldn’t breathe, and then pushed himself down on Sasha’s cock. “Make love to me.”
Sasha moved slowly, languid strokes that made Sergey gasp. They traded kisses with every gentle impale. Sergey spread his legs as wide as they would go, then hooked one around Sasha’s back. Sasha cradled Sergey’s face with his hands, held him tenderly. He felt like he could carve his presence inside of Sergey. He felt that hum, that buzz, of Sergey’s soul rise, a heady flush that washed away the world. He kissed Sergey, and for a moment, everything went white, smeared into a golden blur.
He felt Sergey’s soul slip through him, pass through his atoms, and back into Sergey.I will hold you again, when we are nestled together inside of a star.
Sergey gasped, groaned, arched. Rocked with every thrust, every pulse of Sasha’s body. Their bodies touched at every angle, geometry of distance from elbow to lips, kiss to thrust, the derivative of skin on skin and heartbeats conjoined, the mathematics of one soul split into two bodies at the start of time and those two bodies, improbably, impossibly, finding each other again. His whole life he’d been running, been searching.
He’d been searching for Sergey. He’d been running toward him.
Finally, everything made sense.
Sergey grasped Sasha’s shoulders, dug his nails into Sasha’s skin. His legs clamped on Sasha’s ribs, on his waist. His cock, hot and heavy and rock hard, thrust between their bellies. “I’m going to—” Sergey gasped. “Sasha!”
“Come for me,” Sasha whispered. He spoke against Sergey’s lips. “I want to make you come forever. I want to make you scream. I want to feel your love.”
Cursing, Sergey kissed him as he jerked, arching his back as he roared, as his orgasm burned through him, as searing come splashed their bellies, as his throat clenched and a scream ripped from him. His fingers dug into Sasha, as if he could climb Sasha’s body, as if he could ride him forever.
Sasha pushed deeper, through Sergey’s clenching ass, deeper, and buried his face in Sergey’s neck. He kissed his throat, his collarbone. Bit the skin of his chest, grabbed his hips, and thrust as deep as he could. He was a slave to Sergey’s love, to the ecstasy Sergey carved in the universe, that he created in Sasha’s soul. His orgasm ripped out of him, everything within him trying to unite with everything inside Sergey.
Collapsing on top of Sergey, he nuzzled his forehead against Sergey’s hair, kissed his cheek, his ear. Their legs were a mess, lube and come and sweat everywhere. He slid a slick thigh over Sergey’s hips. Wrapped his arms around Sergey. A tendril of his old fears tried to haunt him. “Was that good for you?”
Sergey turned and faced him. A blissed-out smile stretched his face, dopey, love-drunk eyes. He seemed to force himself to move, twisting onto his side. He pressed their bodies together, chests to hips to thighs to toes. Sasha felt Sergey’s heart pounding. “You are everything I ever wanted.”
“Is this what it feels like?” Sasha asked, after a long, long moment. “Being so in love that you’re not afraid? Is this how you feel all the time?”
Sergey’s thumb stroked over his cheekbone. “Yes.”
He kissed Sergey’s wrist. “I like this.”
“You don’t have to be afraid. Not anymore.”
Something from his memories, a hazy current of dread, a tendril of fear, of unease rose within him. Ashy fields, and bodies rising from the snow. Rivers of blood.You must go back into the world and fight these demons. You will fight them in starlight.
“The world isn’t safe. Not yet.”
“But, right here,” Sergey insisted. “In our bed. In our home. This is where you don’t have to be afraid.”
Sasha shook his head. “Never again.”
Chapter Fifteen
The last twoweeks of August were always dead time in Moscow, across Russia. Government buildings closed, and most companies encouraged their workers to take vacation. Cities, cramped, hot, and crowded, emptied, everyone disappearing to the countryside to escape.
Sergey took Sasha to his modest dacha, a retreat he’d bought when he was still in the FSB, when he just wanted to get away from the politics and the pressure of Moscow and the regime. He’d headed north when most of Russia headed south, toward the Black Sea. His dacha was nestled in the forests north of St. Petersburg and Moscow, in quiet, pristine, empty wilderness.
Ilya joined them for four days, fishing and grilling and smoking cigars on the porch overlooking a quiet river. “We raided the camp Ostrovsky told us about. We found a bunch of weapons. No men, though. They’d vanished.”
“They’re still out there,” Sergey rumbled.
“We’ll find them.” Ilya puffed on his cigar. “Things are getting better, Sergey. Much better. We’ll find them. You’ll see.”
After Ilya left, Sergey couldn’t get enough of Sasha. He sucked him in the mornings, as dawn’s light filtered through the dacha’s windows overlooking the river. He made out with Sasha on the riverbank and in the river, splashed and chased him until Sasha hauled him over his shoulder and took him inside, threw him on the bed and ravished him. He rode Sasha in moonlight, rocking on his cock as he pressed their foreheads together, kissing him and sharing breaths until Sasha shuddered and shook and exploded, filling Sergey with his hot come.
There was laughter and smiles. At night, Sasha spread a blanket on the riverbank and pointed out constellations, stars and planets and galaxies, told Sergey stories about each different speck of light in the sky. Sergey drew his own constellations, making up sex positions and body parts of Sasha’s. The Flex. The V. The Turgid Cock. Sasha buried his embarrassed face in Sergey’s neck and hid his snorts.
There were conversations.
