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They were curled up snugly in front of the fire, naked beneath fur-lined blankets.
The tournament in Aspen, Colorado had been a hazy dream so far. Snow-capped mountains had peeked through the windows in the playing hall, the crisp winter air enveloping the competition snugly. Vasily had snuck away to her room each night, careful of the watchful eyes of his shadows. They had just come back from a clandestine walk, snow crunching between their feet, and Vasily had made a fire, the flames crackling cheerfully in the fireplace. They had made love on the floor, cheeks and noses still flushed from the crisp winter air, the fire and their impassioned activities soon warming them up.
Breathing heavily, Beth lay with her head on Vasily’s chest, inhaling his woodsy scent, the relaxing lull of his heartbeat beneath her. She tried to capture the moment before it was gone, knowing full well Vasily would soon rise and return to one of his theory books or the board she had set up on the desk, never being one to stay away from his chess studies for long.
He proved her point a few minutes later, when he ambled up, despite her drowsy protestations.
“I’ll be right back,” he said this time, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, before retreating momentarily into another room.
He settled back on the carpeted floor, grabbing a pillow to lay behind his head, and opened the book he was carrying. Beth peered at the cover from beside him.
“That’s a good one,” she said, laying her head on Vasily again, this time on his abdomen so he had room to prop the book against his upper chest.
He hummed in agreement. “Yes, it is an excellent study of endgame tactics.”
She traced patterns on his bare skin with her fingernails. “Will you read to me?” she asked.
Vasily glanced at her with his amused half-smile she had grown to love so much.
“I promise I won’t use it against you,” she teased.
“Now that I doubt,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes.”
He cleared his throat and began reading, one hand stroking her hair, and Beth let her eyes close, letting the words wash over her. She could listen to him reading forever. Or just talking. Softly accented and deep, his gravelly voice never failed to send shivers down her spine. Whether it was him whispering filthy things to her while they fucked or sweet endearments afterward, Beth absolutely loved hearing Vasily’s voice.
She particularly liked the moments when Vasily would unravel, those seldom times when she was completely in control and his voice would splutter and gasp. Thinking of it sent a frisson of anticipation down Beth’s spine, and a wicked idea pranced into her mind.
Sliding down, Beth took told of his cock in her hand.
He stopped reading. “Liza?” he groaned. “What are you doing?”
She looked cheekily up at him. “Nothing,” she said innocently, beginning to stroke up and down. Her thumb brushed against the tip, and he tensed. She paused, widening her eyes and blinking.
“Keep reading, I don’t what to miss Alekhine’s theory on the Caro-Kann defense.”
He chuckled and sighed. Soon he was hard again in her palm, yet he read on normally, voice showing no sign of anything out of the ordinary happening.
Then she began to take him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head, then reaching a hand between his legs to slowly squeeze his – aha! Vasily sucked in a breath, stumbling over the word he had been reading. He was silent for a moment and when he continued, his voice tremored slightly.
Beth renewed her efforts, moving up and down, deeper and deeper in that tantalizing way she knew he liked. His voice grew more and more strained, his breathing becoming labored as she continued.
There was a pause as he flipped the page, the crackle of the paper deafeningly loud. And then suddenly he was springing up and flipping her onto her back, holding her down with his large body draped over her own.
The book toppled to the ground, forgotten.
“You are unbelievable,” he gritted in Russian. His face hovered above hers, and he leaned down, nipping at her neck.
Beth giggled. She always found a way to get what she wanted, one way or another. Soon she was the one gasping and panting as he took her roughly, moaning as he fucked her into the floor.
Soon they were both breathless, a faint sheen of sweat forming where their skin met.
Beth settled against Borgov’s chest once more, her body curled against his as they caught their breath. She hummed contently, cocooned in his embrace.
“You should read to me more often,” she told him slyly.
He chuckled, his hand at the side of her hair. “Or,” he said. “You will do the reading next time.”
Beth giggled, anticipation rising in her stomach at the thought. “Deal,” she agreed. She kissed him lazily, and then another delightfully wicked idea occurred to her.
“Maybe it’ll even be your book.”