LIAH 13. Help Me

Pei Siyin’s waist and hips were locked in a tight grip. His eyes were dazed and wet with lust as he lay sprawled on top of Song Shengyang, whining softly, grinding his lower body with shameless insistence.

Song Shengyang started to get hard from the friction. It felt like he was being led by the nose again. His chin and neck were wet from Pei Siyin’s licking, and in the suffocating heat of the moment, his whole body burned.

“Can’t you rein it in a little?” Song Shengyang’s chest was thick with arousal. His reason had been completely shattered by Pei Siyin’s behavior. His breathing grew heavier, strained. “I’m not an aphrodisiac. Why do you always act like this whenever you see me?”

Their noses brushed, Pei Siyin’s lips grazing his. In a hoarse voice, he murmured, “I don’t know. I just like you. I can’t control it.”

Not a trace of a lie. From the very beginning, Pei Siyin had always been this blunt and direct.

Song Shengyang’s heart pounded. His ears burned red. Pei Siyin buried his face in the crook of his neck, the skin that had been touched still tingling down to his spine.

“Song Shengyang,” Pei Siyin whispered, “I don’t feel good.”

The man draped over him suddenly went still, quiet like a doll. Song Shengyang pulled his hand out from under Pei Siyin’s clothes and let out a breath. “Your knees have been down too long. Get up.”

Pei Siyin didn’t move.

Song Shengyang turned his head to look at him, a few strands of hair brushing his cheek.

Pei Siyin raised his head. His eyes were wet, the tears clinging stubbornly to his lashes, his beautiful face tinged with an undefinable allure.

He leaned in again and kissed Song Shengyang’s lips lightly. “Help me.”

Song Shengyang’s ears rang with the hoarse, heated voice. He slid a hand up to the back of Pei Siyin’s neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “How?”

Pei Siyin’s breathing turned more erratic, but he moved as boldly as always. He guided Song Shengyang’s hand behind him, lifting the waistband of his sweatpants with a fingertip, slipping past his underwear to press into the private cleft between his cheeks.

Song Shengyang’s fingers touched something wet and slick. He froze. “What is this?”

His mind went blank. Only his heart kept hammering wildly.

Pei Siyin laughed when he saw his stunned face. His eyes shimmered as he leaned close, curling his lips and whispering in his ear, “It’s already a little wet. Do you want to come in?”

Song Shengyang was dumbstruck, trying to break that sentence down piece by piece. His fingertip rested against the damp, tight hole. Pei Siyin had already undone most of the buttons on his shirt. His collarbone was being gently kissed and nibbled, leaving a wet, glistening patch behind.

“Pei Siyin,” Song Shengyang said, voice low and gravelly. He turned his head, brushing his nose through Pei Siyin’s fluffy hair, which carried a faint floral scent. “There won’t be a next time.”

Even Pei Siyin hadn’t expected that.

A long, slender finger slid cautiously into the tight entrance. Pei Siyin gave a muffled whimper as he lay against him. The fingertip had only gone halfway in. It was soft inside, and just as Pei Siyin had said, slightly wet.

But it wasn’t enough to dull the sting of something suddenly being pushed in. Pei Siyin’s waist tightened. He clutched at Song Shengyang’s shirt collar, his hips frozen, unable to move.

Song Shengyang looked down at him, his chin brushing lightly against Pei Siyin’s forehead. “You’re too tense.”

He was the one who had started it, but the one in full control looked like Song Shengyang. Pei Siyin lifted his head slightly, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. He wrapped both arms around Song Shengyang’s neck and mumbled softly, “Old perv.”

“Who are you calling old?” Song Shengyang’s finger curled inside him, pressing hard a few times, making Pei Siyin tremble in his arms. “I’m only twenty-eight.”

“I was just saying nonsense.” Pei Siyin’s voice was soft and breathy against his ear. His waist gave out under the stimulation.

“Don’t tease me like that.” Song Shengyang slid his finger all the way in, slowly fucking him with a shallow rhythm. Pei Siyin lay draped over his shoulder, clearly hearing the quiet, sticky sound echoing through the silent car.

“We haven’t even known each other a week.” Song Shengyang didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone in particular. With one hand, he adjusted the seat, tilting them both slightly downward.

Pei Siyin’s arms slipped from around his neck. He collapsed on Song Shengyang’s chest, struggling to speak. “That’s true. Things really have escalated fast.”

“I haven’t escalated anything with you.” Song Shengyang held his waist as he slipped in a second finger, pushing past Pei Siyin’s panting moans.

Pei Siyin instinctively clenched around the two fingers now inside him. He could feel the messy, relentless thrusts inside his body as Song Shengyang searched for something. His mouth hung open, lashes damp as they lowered, and a trail of glistening saliva slid from the corner of his lips, wetting Song Shengyang’s bare chest.

“Do you move this fast with anyone else?”

His fragmented, low moans curled tightly around Song Shengyang’s chest. Song Shengyang rubbed his fingertips precisely against a small, raised bundle of nerves. A sudden, overwhelming pleasure surged up Pei Siyin’s spine, making his scalp go numb as he shuddered violently in Song Shengyang’s arms.

After just a few short thrusts, Pei Siyin came from the stimulation alone. Thick, white cum spilled across Song Shengyang’s shirt and slacks.

When Song Shengyang withdrew his fingers, they were covered in a transparent, slippery mess. He raised his hand and slowly separated his fingers before his eyes. A silvery thread stretched taut between them, then broke with a wet snap, forming a thin droplet that fell onto Pei Siyin’s left cheek.

“There’s no one else.” Song Shengyang answered suddenly. “Why would you think I’m that kind of person?”

A moment later, Pei Siyin started to come back to himself. His dazed pupils gradually cleared, sparkling. He leaned up to bite Song Shengyang’s chin, clearly in a good mood. “So you’ve never done this with anyone else? Really?”

Admitting to that kind of experience wasn’t exactly hard—but definitely not in front of Pei Siyin.

Song Shengyang had always thought romantic relationships were just a double-edged burden on the body and mind. He never saw the point of getting caught up in them.

“Are you a walking questionnaire or something? Do you have to ask everything?”

Their lower bodies were pressed tightly together. Pei Siyin reached down and rubbed Song Shengyang’s fully erect cock through his pants. He undid the belt, and this time Song Shengyang didn’t stop him.

They clung to each other. Pei Siyin braced himself with one knee and kissed along Song Shengyang’s cheek and jaw. Then he slipped his hand into his underwear, trying to wrap his fingers around his cock, but one hand wasn’t enough. “So hot,” he murmured.

A surge of raw lust rose in Song Shengyang’s chest. He grabbed Pei Siyin’s hand and helped him stroke it up and down, his low, heavy panting ringing in Pei Siyin’s ears. Pei Siyin loved the sound of him in the heat of it, those ragged, unrestrained breaths he couldn’t hold back.

“Song Shengyang,” Pei Siyin moaned his name, ignoring the burn in his arm, “because of you, I’m wet again.”

The cock in his hand swelled even more. Pei Siyin’s palm felt scorched. Song Shengyang gripped his fingers tighter and pressed his head down into his chest. “Stop talking.”

His heart thudded. Pei Siyin buried his face, nose pressed against those hard, defined pecs. He sounded like he was drooling with desire. “What a body.”

His voice was muffled. Song Shengyang grabbed his ass and, as Pei Siyin’s hand slowed from exhaustion, pressed his swollen tip against the inside of his thigh and came, shooting thick, hot streams across his skin.

Their cum mixed together. The driver’s seat was a filthy, sticky mess.

Song Shengyang pulled his hand back and replied to Pei Siyin’s last comment with clear irritation.

“You’re so fucking shallow.”