The Number of Vices, chapter 3
Apr. 18th, 2021 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: The Number of Vices
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 3/?
Word Count: 1325
Characters: Beth Harmon, Vasily Borgov
Pairings Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov
Warnings: Angst, Rough sex, Uneven power dynamics, M/f, BDSM, Choking, Oral sex, Older man/Younger woman
Summary: Staying in Moscow after the Invitational, Beth is delighted to find Vasily Borgov is to show her the city. She has plans. So have Borgov.
The fic on AO3
Borgov’s expression didn’t change, but Beth could see his eyes lit up at her words. But he still didn’t move, despite her pulling at him.
“If you want a kiss, ask nicely.”
Though she wanted to be kissed very badly, Beth still couldn’t help exaggerating.
“Please, Mr. Grandmaster Borgov, Sir, will you please kiss me now?”
The hand around her throat tightened, and he shook her a little. “Again. With less sarcasm, please.”
She swallowed. It might be fun to tease him a little, but she wanted to be kissed more.
“Please kiss me, Mr. Borgov.”
This time he complied, his lips firm and surprisingly cool against her’s, but there was no coldness in the kiss. Beth’s head spun; for a moment she thought she couldn’t breathe, not with his fingers around her throat, and his mouth against hers, but then she drew breath, and her world spun nevertheless. It was the way he kissed her, how his other hand roamed her body outside her dress, a rough and greedy caress more for his gratifications than her own, but it seemed to light her entire body on fire. And who could have suspected such a precise middle-aged, but not so boring, man would touch her like that?
There had been a hint in the way Borgov’s gaze had thrilled her the night before, and she had wondered how it would feel to be embraced by him. But she hadn’t known, hadn’t even considered he could be like this. When his hand slipped under her dress, fingers skimming over the strip of bare skin between her garter belt and stockings, she parted her legs in anticipation. She was not disappointed, Borgov’s fingers found their way inside her panties, and she could feel the kiss change when he smiled at finding her so very wet for him.
Beth pressed herself against him, gyrating her hips to feel his touch more, and he obliged by slipping first one finger, then another inside her, as his thumb stroke her where it mattered the most. Her hands roamed his shoulders and back, delighting in feeling his body underneath the fine fabric of his shirt. Then her right hand slipped down, skimmed over his stomach, and down to his crotch. She was pleased, but not surprised, to find him hard against her palm. She pressed it against him, moving a little back and forth, and Borgov stopped everything he was doing. Beth blinked up at him in disappointment.
“No Beth.”
“But I want to.”
“What you want doesn’t matter right now. And I promise I will have everything I want from you a little later.”
A little disappointed, Beth withdrew her hand, and Borgov renewed his caresses. His hand had never left her neck, holding her still, as he slipped a third finger inside her. It stretched her, bordering on painful, and her breathing became faster and heavier. She felt hot, too hot, and she could feel sweat forming on her forehead and upper lip. Her world shrank. The only things that mattered were his hands and what he was doing with them. When she looked up at him, she saw he was staring at her; completely concentrated on her and her reactions, but when he met her eyes he smiled. A small, almost pitiless smile, and it tipped Beth over the edge. He kissed her when she came, his mouth swallowing her moans. Her knees buckled; the only reason she was still standing was Borgov’s hand around her throat. He brought his hand to her mouth, and she obediently opened it to taste the saltiness of herself on his fingers.
“You are exquisite right now, my dear.”
The grip on her throat eased, and Beth crumpled forward, clutching at his shirt. For a moment he embraced her, but when her breathing became more controlled, and she tried to adjust her clothes, he took her arm, led her to an armchair. He roughly pushed her down, so she was kneeling on the floor before he sat down.
“Come here.”
Beth shuffled closer on her knees. She knew what he wanted and felt a little apprehensive. She had never done it before, and for a moment she considered not telling him that. But even if she might not have done this before, she was sure he had experienced it, and he would know anyway.
Borgov leaned forward, tilting her chin up, his thumb brushing her half-open mouth.
“I’m- I’m new to this.”
“And does the prospect frighten you?”
“Not really. I just wanted you to know.”
The grip of her chin turned into a caress down her cheek. “Don’t worry, I will tell you what to do.”
Despite her initial uncertainness, Beth found she liked to take his cock into her mouth; hard and smooth and still silky soft against her tongue. And she liked Borgov’s low voice as he directed her, and how he faltered slightly when she did something just right, encouraging her to do it again. And she liked how his hand rested heavily on her head, gently directing her how to move. She felt bolder, taking him deeper inside, only to pull back, her tongue swirling around his cock as she did so. His hand tangled into her hair, closed, and slowly twisted, and Beth couldn’t withhold a small moan of pain, which caused him to move faster, thrusting into her mouth.
She looked up at him through her lashes and saw he was leaning back with his eyes closed. His face was relaxed, and she felt a surge of triumph in knowing she was making him as undone as he had just made her. Then his cock swelled, and he came in her mouth with a groan. Beth swallowed; he tasted a little bitter, but not unpleasant. She leaned her forehead against the wool of his pants. Her knees protested their prolonged acquaintance with the floor, and her underwear was still askew, but she felt suddenly and completely happy. Giddy, even. She looked up, smiling at Borgov.
“I feel like I’m drunk. Why do I feel like I’m drunk?”
Borgov stood up, pulling her with him. Beth leaned against his chest, overwhelmed by a burst of laughter.
“I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”
“I know. This can happen. I think I better follow you to your room.”
She clung to him as they walked the few yards to her room; she tried to open the door, but missed the keyhole, and dissolved into giggles yet again. Borgov patiently took the key from her and unlocked the door and then followed her inside. Beth tried to collapse on the bed, but he pulled her up again, found her pyjamas under her pillow, gave it to her and directed her to the bathroom.
Beth quickly changed and made herself ready for bed, afraid he would leave before she was ready. She looked at herself in the mirror with some amazement. Her hair was tousled and her makeup smeared, but her eyes seemed even larger than usual, shining like stars. With her cheeks flushed, she looked beautiful in a completely different way than to the elegant girl she had seen in her mirror before she went to dinner only a few hours ago.
Borgov was still there when she came back, sitting at the edge of her bed. She slid under the sheets with a content sigh; she was quite tired now, but she still couldn’t help talking about anything that flashed through her head. Borgov took her hand and turned off the bedside lamp, but even in the darkness, she couldn’t stop talking happy nonsense.
“Elizabeth.”
“Yes?”
“Be quiet and sleep.”
Beth wanted to protest but yawned instead. She turned to her side, pulling up his hand to her cheek. His quiet presence felt comforting, but she caught herself before she said it aloud, and soon she slept.
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 3/?
Word Count: 1325
Characters: Beth Harmon, Vasily Borgov
Pairings Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov
Warnings: Angst, Rough sex, Uneven power dynamics, M/f, BDSM, Choking, Oral sex, Older man/Younger woman
Summary: Staying in Moscow after the Invitational, Beth is delighted to find Vasily Borgov is to show her the city. She has plans. So have Borgov.
The fic on AO3
Borgov’s expression didn’t change, but Beth could see his eyes lit up at her words. But he still didn’t move, despite her pulling at him.
“If you want a kiss, ask nicely.”
Though she wanted to be kissed very badly, Beth still couldn’t help exaggerating.
“Please, Mr. Grandmaster Borgov, Sir, will you please kiss me now?”
The hand around her throat tightened, and he shook her a little. “Again. With less sarcasm, please.”
She swallowed. It might be fun to tease him a little, but she wanted to be kissed more.
“Please kiss me, Mr. Borgov.”
This time he complied, his lips firm and surprisingly cool against her’s, but there was no coldness in the kiss. Beth’s head spun; for a moment she thought she couldn’t breathe, not with his fingers around her throat, and his mouth against hers, but then she drew breath, and her world spun nevertheless. It was the way he kissed her, how his other hand roamed her body outside her dress, a rough and greedy caress more for his gratifications than her own, but it seemed to light her entire body on fire. And who could have suspected such a precise middle-aged, but not so boring, man would touch her like that?
There had been a hint in the way Borgov’s gaze had thrilled her the night before, and she had wondered how it would feel to be embraced by him. But she hadn’t known, hadn’t even considered he could be like this. When his hand slipped under her dress, fingers skimming over the strip of bare skin between her garter belt and stockings, she parted her legs in anticipation. She was not disappointed, Borgov’s fingers found their way inside her panties, and she could feel the kiss change when he smiled at finding her so very wet for him.
Beth pressed herself against him, gyrating her hips to feel his touch more, and he obliged by slipping first one finger, then another inside her, as his thumb stroke her where it mattered the most. Her hands roamed his shoulders and back, delighting in feeling his body underneath the fine fabric of his shirt. Then her right hand slipped down, skimmed over his stomach, and down to his crotch. She was pleased, but not surprised, to find him hard against her palm. She pressed it against him, moving a little back and forth, and Borgov stopped everything he was doing. Beth blinked up at him in disappointment.
“No Beth.”
“But I want to.”
“What you want doesn’t matter right now. And I promise I will have everything I want from you a little later.”
A little disappointed, Beth withdrew her hand, and Borgov renewed his caresses. His hand had never left her neck, holding her still, as he slipped a third finger inside her. It stretched her, bordering on painful, and her breathing became faster and heavier. She felt hot, too hot, and she could feel sweat forming on her forehead and upper lip. Her world shrank. The only things that mattered were his hands and what he was doing with them. When she looked up at him, she saw he was staring at her; completely concentrated on her and her reactions, but when he met her eyes he smiled. A small, almost pitiless smile, and it tipped Beth over the edge. He kissed her when she came, his mouth swallowing her moans. Her knees buckled; the only reason she was still standing was Borgov’s hand around her throat. He brought his hand to her mouth, and she obediently opened it to taste the saltiness of herself on his fingers.
“You are exquisite right now, my dear.”
The grip on her throat eased, and Beth crumpled forward, clutching at his shirt. For a moment he embraced her, but when her breathing became more controlled, and she tried to adjust her clothes, he took her arm, led her to an armchair. He roughly pushed her down, so she was kneeling on the floor before he sat down.
“Come here.”
Beth shuffled closer on her knees. She knew what he wanted and felt a little apprehensive. She had never done it before, and for a moment she considered not telling him that. But even if she might not have done this before, she was sure he had experienced it, and he would know anyway.
Borgov leaned forward, tilting her chin up, his thumb brushing her half-open mouth.
“I’m- I’m new to this.”
“And does the prospect frighten you?”
“Not really. I just wanted you to know.”
The grip of her chin turned into a caress down her cheek. “Don’t worry, I will tell you what to do.”
Despite her initial uncertainness, Beth found she liked to take his cock into her mouth; hard and smooth and still silky soft against her tongue. And she liked Borgov’s low voice as he directed her, and how he faltered slightly when she did something just right, encouraging her to do it again. And she liked how his hand rested heavily on her head, gently directing her how to move. She felt bolder, taking him deeper inside, only to pull back, her tongue swirling around his cock as she did so. His hand tangled into her hair, closed, and slowly twisted, and Beth couldn’t withhold a small moan of pain, which caused him to move faster, thrusting into her mouth.
She looked up at him through her lashes and saw he was leaning back with his eyes closed. His face was relaxed, and she felt a surge of triumph in knowing she was making him as undone as he had just made her. Then his cock swelled, and he came in her mouth with a groan. Beth swallowed; he tasted a little bitter, but not unpleasant. She leaned her forehead against the wool of his pants. Her knees protested their prolonged acquaintance with the floor, and her underwear was still askew, but she felt suddenly and completely happy. Giddy, even. She looked up, smiling at Borgov.
“I feel like I’m drunk. Why do I feel like I’m drunk?”
Borgov stood up, pulling her with him. Beth leaned against his chest, overwhelmed by a burst of laughter.
“I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”
“I know. This can happen. I think I better follow you to your room.”
She clung to him as they walked the few yards to her room; she tried to open the door, but missed the keyhole, and dissolved into giggles yet again. Borgov patiently took the key from her and unlocked the door and then followed her inside. Beth tried to collapse on the bed, but he pulled her up again, found her pyjamas under her pillow, gave it to her and directed her to the bathroom.
Beth quickly changed and made herself ready for bed, afraid he would leave before she was ready. She looked at herself in the mirror with some amazement. Her hair was tousled and her makeup smeared, but her eyes seemed even larger than usual, shining like stars. With her cheeks flushed, she looked beautiful in a completely different way than to the elegant girl she had seen in her mirror before she went to dinner only a few hours ago.
Borgov was still there when she came back, sitting at the edge of her bed. She slid under the sheets with a content sigh; she was quite tired now, but she still couldn’t help talking about anything that flashed through her head. Borgov took her hand and turned off the bedside lamp, but even in the darkness, she couldn’t stop talking happy nonsense.
“Elizabeth.”
“Yes?”
“Be quiet and sleep.”
Beth wanted to protest but yawned instead. She turned to her side, pulling up his hand to her cheek. His quiet presence felt comforting, but she caught herself before she said it aloud, and soon she slept.
