The Number of Vices, chapter 4
Apr. 22nd, 2021 05:25 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: 4/?
Word Count: 1763
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, Delayed orgasm, Spanking
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
Beth woke up in an excellent mood the next day. Smiling to herself, she stretched, and as she did so she was a little surprised how sore her throat felt, and the back of her head too. Then the evening before came back to her, and the smile broadened. She had pried off the lid of Vasily Borgov’s reserve and had found something she had not expected but had liked very much.
She was a little disappointed when she studied herself in the mirror after her shower. Despite the slight soreness, her skin looked as white and flawless as usual. It would have been nice to see a trace of Borgov’s handiwork and not just feel it. As she dressed, Beth hummed. There were still a few days left of her stay in Moscow, and she very much looked forward to being on her own with Borgov again.
But first, there was a lunch planned with Luchenko, and Beth looked forward to it. She liked to imagine it must be like this to have a grandfather, as Luchenko filled the meal with good cheer and an animated discussion. Alongside him, Borgov seemed even more taciturn than usual, content with only answering direct questions.
After lunch Luchenko attached himself to the company, fearing, he said, that Beth would be unforgivably bored if she had to make do with only Borgov as a guide. Beth laughed and joined him in a gentle tease of the World Champion, delighting in Luchenko’s total disregard for Borgov’s dignity. He seemed to take the ribbing in stride, but though now and then Beth caught a gleam in his eye which sent a delightful frisson of anticipation down her back.
And she was certain there was something new in Borgov’s demeanor towards her. It was subtle; Beth might not have noticed if she hadn’t suddenly become so aware of everything he did. There was the way he touched her back, ever so lightly, to steer her in the right direction, or how he took her elbow to steady her at a slippery patch on the ground. He didn’t even do it often, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling there was an air of possessiveness in how he treated her, which hadn’t been there the day before. Beth thought she ought to mind, at least she was sure she would have minded very much if it had been anyone else. The very idea of Harry or Benny even attempting something similar was so ludicrous she almost laughed out loud. But when Borgov touched her, she felt breathless and flustered, and by the end of the afternoon she now and then turned the wrong way on purpose, just so he would touch her again.
In the evening there was a dinner with several other chess plates. Beth took even longer in making herself ready. She hadn’t planned for an extended stay when she packed, and to her annoyance, she realized she had no choice but to wear a dress she had already worn at the tournament. After much agonizing, she decided on the geometrically patterned black and white one. At least she hadn’t worn it when she played against Borgov, and she liked how it draped around her body, and the monochromes showed off her hair. She opted for her very best Parisian underwear; delicate things in black silk which almost seemed to float over her skin.
Mr. Booth was waiting to escort her, and at the elevator met Borgov. When the elevator came, it was quite full; Mr. Booth stepped inside before realizing there wasn’t enough room for Beth. He moved to get out, but the door closed, leaving her alone with Borgov. They waited in silence. When the elevator returned, it was empty. Beth’s heart was beating hard when the door closed; they hadn’t been alone together since last night. He stepped close and wrapped an arm around her waist. She thought he was going to kiss her, but his free hand sneaked up under her skirt, and before she could react his palm skimmed over her hip, fingers hooked into her panties, and suddenly he tore them away. Still, without a word, Borgov released her and pocketed her ripped panties.
“Those were expensive!” Beth hissed, but Borgov didn’t respond. And then the elevator doors opened, and he stepped back to allow her to depart first, delivering her to the waiting Mr. Booth, who glared suspiciously at Beth’s flushed face.
The evening turned out to be very pleasant. She was presented to several people she hadn’t met before, and she was particularly pleased to meet Nona Gaprindashvili. With the help of Luchenko’s somewhat erratic translation, they could even have a conversation about being both a woman and a chess player.
Borgov didn’t speak to her at all; he stayed away from her all evening, deep in conversation with people he clearly knew well. Now and then Beth looked at him, and every time it reminded her that in one pocket of his impeccably tailored suit there was a piece of silk and lace that had once been her best panties. And every time she could feel herself blush in both mortification and excitement.
The evening became later than expected, and to Beth’s chagrin, it was far too late to suggest chess in Borgov’s suit. And to annoy her further, Mr. Booth insisted on following her to her room. He had concocted quite a list of things Beth had said and done in the last few days, which he wasn’t pleased with, and now he told them to her at length. Beth yawned behind her hand and didn’t listen. In the end, she opened her door and closed it before Mr. Booth could finish his departing sentence. She had barely had time to shrug out of her coat before he knocked on the door, undoubtedly to convey something else she hadn’t done properly.
“What`” she said when she flung open the door.
A man stepped in, closing the door, and kissed her so swiftly it took Beth several seconds to realize it wasn’t Mr. Booth who inexplicably behaved that way but Borgov. She froze completely, and Borgov released her with a quizzical look on his face.
“I thought you were Mr. Booth.”
“And now you are disappointed?”
“Very.”
Borgov pulled her a little closer. “You enjoy your little games, don’t you? You had good fun with Luchenko today, mocking me. But he has some right to take liberties born from seniority and a long friendship. You have neither.”
Despite his stern voice and expression, Beth didn’t think he was really upset.
“Well, I think you enjoyed it.”
“Is that so? Well, in any case, and in all fairness, I think it’s my turn now.”
Beth wondered what he meant to do, but nodded. Then she gasped as Borgov twisted her left arm up her back. She quickly realized that if she didn’t stand perfectly still, a sharp pain shot through her arm and shoulders, rendering her unable to do anything. Not that she wanted to stop him as his hand found itself between her legs again, but she itched to touch him back. And she was already almost painfully aroused; as far as Beth concerned, foreplay had begun in the elevator many times earlier, and she was more than ready to finally get some release. But just as she was almost there, Borgov abruptly stopped and let her go.
“Take off your clothes.”
Beth wasn’t shy; having spent several years sleeping in a room filled with other girls had cured her of being embarrassed to take off her clothes in front of other people. She still couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated under Borgov’s intense scrutiny. But she was also quite proud of her figure, and she was sure he wouldn’t be disappointed. When she was naked, he told her to lie on the bed and then set out to show her what she had meant. It took Beth a little time to figure it out; that every time she was close to orgasm, he would stop to do something else; like shedding some of his own clothes.
To her delight, Borgov naked was as agreeable as she had envisioned, lean and muscular, and she was distracted enough by finally having the chance to touch him back. But then she tried to finish what he had interrupted, and her hand received a stinging slap.
“Stop that.”
“But I-”
“But you want to, I know. But you have to wait until I say you can come. Do you understand?”
Beth put her stinging fingers in her mouth and glared at him, but then she nodded. Borgov raised an eyebrow, and she took out her fingers and answered properly.
“Yes, Mr. Borgov.”
What followed was hell, but a most delicious hell. His hands and mouth moved over her body, sometimes with gentle kisses and caresses, sometimes in rough strokes, and sharp nips. It threw Beth between sensations, her entire body trembling, and her mind unable to form any coherent thought. She hadn’t thought it was possible to want to come this much; for as long as possible she tried not to beg for it, but in the end, she could do nothing else than to say please, repeatedly. It felt like an eternity before Borgov finally spoke.
“Stand on your hands and knees, Beth. Then you may touch yourself.”
Beth had hardly touched herself until she came, an enormous wave of pleasure creasing through her body. And at the same time, Borgov thrust inside her, hard and fast, his fingers digging into her hips to hold her steady. Beth almost screamed, pressing her face into the pillows to muffle the sound, as her orgasm ebbed, only to surprise her with coming back, almost as strong. After being delayed for so long, it now flooded her body several times, abetted and intensified by Borgov moving inside her. She was still reeling from the last, now a rather feeble convulsion when he came as well, thrusting so forcefully it was almost painful.
After Borgov pulled Beth into his arms, she rested her head on his chest, feeling enormously content. She was drowsy, her body feeling relaxed and oddly boneless.
And then her mouth had to spoil it all by speaking out loud what she hadn’t even been aware she had been thinking about.
“Do you do this to your wife too?”
Fandom: The Queen’s Gambit
Rating: Explicit
Chapters: 4/?
Word Count: 1763
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, Delayed orgasm, Spanking
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
Beth woke up in an excellent mood the next day. Smiling to herself, she stretched, and as she did so she was a little surprised how sore her throat felt, and the back of her head too. Then the evening before came back to her, and the smile broadened. She had pried off the lid of Vasily Borgov’s reserve and had found something she had not expected but had liked very much.
She was a little disappointed when she studied herself in the mirror after her shower. Despite the slight soreness, her skin looked as white and flawless as usual. It would have been nice to see a trace of Borgov’s handiwork and not just feel it. As she dressed, Beth hummed. There were still a few days left of her stay in Moscow, and she very much looked forward to being on her own with Borgov again.
But first, there was a lunch planned with Luchenko, and Beth looked forward to it. She liked to imagine it must be like this to have a grandfather, as Luchenko filled the meal with good cheer and an animated discussion. Alongside him, Borgov seemed even more taciturn than usual, content with only answering direct questions.
After lunch Luchenko attached himself to the company, fearing, he said, that Beth would be unforgivably bored if she had to make do with only Borgov as a guide. Beth laughed and joined him in a gentle tease of the World Champion, delighting in Luchenko’s total disregard for Borgov’s dignity. He seemed to take the ribbing in stride, but though now and then Beth caught a gleam in his eye which sent a delightful frisson of anticipation down her back.
And she was certain there was something new in Borgov’s demeanor towards her. It was subtle; Beth might not have noticed if she hadn’t suddenly become so aware of everything he did. There was the way he touched her back, ever so lightly, to steer her in the right direction, or how he took her elbow to steady her at a slippery patch on the ground. He didn’t even do it often, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling there was an air of possessiveness in how he treated her, which hadn’t been there the day before. Beth thought she ought to mind, at least she was sure she would have minded very much if it had been anyone else. The very idea of Harry or Benny even attempting something similar was so ludicrous she almost laughed out loud. But when Borgov touched her, she felt breathless and flustered, and by the end of the afternoon she now and then turned the wrong way on purpose, just so he would touch her again.
In the evening there was a dinner with several other chess plates. Beth took even longer in making herself ready. She hadn’t planned for an extended stay when she packed, and to her annoyance, she realized she had no choice but to wear a dress she had already worn at the tournament. After much agonizing, she decided on the geometrically patterned black and white one. At least she hadn’t worn it when she played against Borgov, and she liked how it draped around her body, and the monochromes showed off her hair. She opted for her very best Parisian underwear; delicate things in black silk which almost seemed to float over her skin.
Mr. Booth was waiting to escort her, and at the elevator met Borgov. When the elevator came, it was quite full; Mr. Booth stepped inside before realizing there wasn’t enough room for Beth. He moved to get out, but the door closed, leaving her alone with Borgov. They waited in silence. When the elevator returned, it was empty. Beth’s heart was beating hard when the door closed; they hadn’t been alone together since last night. He stepped close and wrapped an arm around her waist. She thought he was going to kiss her, but his free hand sneaked up under her skirt, and before she could react his palm skimmed over her hip, fingers hooked into her panties, and suddenly he tore them away. Still, without a word, Borgov released her and pocketed her ripped panties.
“Those were expensive!” Beth hissed, but Borgov didn’t respond. And then the elevator doors opened, and he stepped back to allow her to depart first, delivering her to the waiting Mr. Booth, who glared suspiciously at Beth’s flushed face.
The evening turned out to be very pleasant. She was presented to several people she hadn’t met before, and she was particularly pleased to meet Nona Gaprindashvili. With the help of Luchenko’s somewhat erratic translation, they could even have a conversation about being both a woman and a chess player.
Borgov didn’t speak to her at all; he stayed away from her all evening, deep in conversation with people he clearly knew well. Now and then Beth looked at him, and every time it reminded her that in one pocket of his impeccably tailored suit there was a piece of silk and lace that had once been her best panties. And every time she could feel herself blush in both mortification and excitement.
The evening became later than expected, and to Beth’s chagrin, it was far too late to suggest chess in Borgov’s suit. And to annoy her further, Mr. Booth insisted on following her to her room. He had concocted quite a list of things Beth had said and done in the last few days, which he wasn’t pleased with, and now he told them to her at length. Beth yawned behind her hand and didn’t listen. In the end, she opened her door and closed it before Mr. Booth could finish his departing sentence. She had barely had time to shrug out of her coat before he knocked on the door, undoubtedly to convey something else she hadn’t done properly.
“What`” she said when she flung open the door.
A man stepped in, closing the door, and kissed her so swiftly it took Beth several seconds to realize it wasn’t Mr. Booth who inexplicably behaved that way but Borgov. She froze completely, and Borgov released her with a quizzical look on his face.
“I thought you were Mr. Booth.”
“And now you are disappointed?”
“Very.”
Borgov pulled her a little closer. “You enjoy your little games, don’t you? You had good fun with Luchenko today, mocking me. But he has some right to take liberties born from seniority and a long friendship. You have neither.”
Despite his stern voice and expression, Beth didn’t think he was really upset.
“Well, I think you enjoyed it.”
“Is that so? Well, in any case, and in all fairness, I think it’s my turn now.”
Beth wondered what he meant to do, but nodded. Then she gasped as Borgov twisted her left arm up her back. She quickly realized that if she didn’t stand perfectly still, a sharp pain shot through her arm and shoulders, rendering her unable to do anything. Not that she wanted to stop him as his hand found itself between her legs again, but she itched to touch him back. And she was already almost painfully aroused; as far as Beth concerned, foreplay had begun in the elevator many times earlier, and she was more than ready to finally get some release. But just as she was almost there, Borgov abruptly stopped and let her go.
“Take off your clothes.”
Beth wasn’t shy; having spent several years sleeping in a room filled with other girls had cured her of being embarrassed to take off her clothes in front of other people. She still couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated under Borgov’s intense scrutiny. But she was also quite proud of her figure, and she was sure he wouldn’t be disappointed. When she was naked, he told her to lie on the bed and then set out to show her what she had meant. It took Beth a little time to figure it out; that every time she was close to orgasm, he would stop to do something else; like shedding some of his own clothes.
To her delight, Borgov naked was as agreeable as she had envisioned, lean and muscular, and she was distracted enough by finally having the chance to touch him back. But then she tried to finish what he had interrupted, and her hand received a stinging slap.
“Stop that.”
“But I-”
“But you want to, I know. But you have to wait until I say you can come. Do you understand?”
Beth put her stinging fingers in her mouth and glared at him, but then she nodded. Borgov raised an eyebrow, and she took out her fingers and answered properly.
“Yes, Mr. Borgov.”
What followed was hell, but a most delicious hell. His hands and mouth moved over her body, sometimes with gentle kisses and caresses, sometimes in rough strokes, and sharp nips. It threw Beth between sensations, her entire body trembling, and her mind unable to form any coherent thought. She hadn’t thought it was possible to want to come this much; for as long as possible she tried not to beg for it, but in the end, she could do nothing else than to say please, repeatedly. It felt like an eternity before Borgov finally spoke.
“Stand on your hands and knees, Beth. Then you may touch yourself.”
Beth had hardly touched herself until she came, an enormous wave of pleasure creasing through her body. And at the same time, Borgov thrust inside her, hard and fast, his fingers digging into her hips to hold her steady. Beth almost screamed, pressing her face into the pillows to muffle the sound, as her orgasm ebbed, only to surprise her with coming back, almost as strong. After being delayed for so long, it now flooded her body several times, abetted and intensified by Borgov moving inside her. She was still reeling from the last, now a rather feeble convulsion when he came as well, thrusting so forcefully it was almost painful.
After Borgov pulled Beth into his arms, she rested her head on his chest, feeling enormously content. She was drowsy, her body feeling relaxed and oddly boneless.
And then her mouth had to spoil it all by speaking out loud what she hadn’t even been aware she had been thinking about.
“Do you do this to your wife too?”
