LIAH 28. Move in and Live with Me

Song Shengyang’s voice was terribly hoarse. He had felt it starting back at the club, from the moment Pei Siyin grabbed his collar and kissed him.

He had seen the way Pei Siyin stared at the stage, had heard him say thank you for bringing him, say he enjoyed the show. From that moment on, all Song Shengyang could think about was taking him home, pinning him to the bed, fucking him hard until the only thing left in those eyes was himself.

His cock swelled too much inside, making Pei Siyin’s lower body go numb. His legs couldn’t hold onto Song Shengyang’s waist anymore. They trembled at the root, and he lay there on the bed, shaking.

“It’s too much… slow down…” Pei Siyin’s throat felt raw. The thrusts were too deep, making him feel like he might just die right there in bed. “Be gentle.”

Song Shengyang spread his legs wider, pressing his thumbs into the sides of his waist. He leaned down and kissed the corner of Pei Siyin’s mouth, wet with glistening spit. “You were watching very intently tonight. Were those people that attractive?”

His hips snapped forward fiercely. Pei Siyin braced a hand on his shoulder. The pressure at his waist kept increasing, as if Song Shengyang wanted to crush him and fuck him so deep he disappeared into his body. “I didn’t— You were the one who brought me. I was just… along for the ride.”

Song Shengyang shoved a pillow under his hips, raising Pei Siyin’s ass. That answer clearly didn’t satisfy him.

The desire building between them thickened. The sound of their bodies slamming together filled the room. Pei Siyin couldn’t stop trembling. He turned his head, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

“You just tagged along, huh? Ended up watching two whole sets.” Song Shengyang summed it up easily.

The only reason Pei Siyin hadn’t watched more was because Song Shengyang had kept talking to him.

His thoughts were easy to understand. The air between their entwined bodies was damp and hot, clinging to their skin like a second layer. Pei Siyin’s body was forced upward with each thrust, the sheets underneath him bunched and wrinkled. He could feel his hole being pushed open again and again, stretched and fucked until it molded to that cock. Stroking the sweat-slick hollow of Song Shengyang’s throat, he asked, “Are you jealous?”

“Yes,” Song Shengyang admitted. “I don’t like you looking at anyone else.”

Pei Siyin felt like he was burning up. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and pleasure surged through him like a crashing tide, dragging every coherent thought under.

The night was quiet. From the tall building, the only sound was the wind rustling past the windows.

Pei Siyin was flipped over. He knelt on the bed, back arched low. His head rested against a pillow, his ass lifted high. Song Shengyang pressed a hand against his back to raise him even more.

The thrusts went deep, every one hard and ruthless. His hole, once tight and clenched, was now fucked open and dripping wet, raw and flushed red like overripe fruit. Song Shengyang gripped his waist hard, and the smooth, pale curves of Pei Siyin’s ass gleamed under the light.

Pei Siyin’s hole was fucked into a round, swollen shape. Every time Song Shengyang pulled out, he shoved back in just as hard. His fingertips traced the dip of Pei Siyin’s spine, smearing away the sweat seeping from his flushed skin.

Pei Siyin was wound tight all over. Song Shengyang pushed his legs farther apart and grabbed the cock in front, the one that had already come once, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts.

“N-no… stop, let go…” Pei Siyin’s hips jerked uncontrollably. He reached down and grabbed Song Shengyang’s wrist, trying to pull him away. Their palms were slick with sweat, sticky enough to slide apart with the slightest shift. “You really can’t…”

His soaked, clenched walls were stretched open again and again. The movement of Song Shengyang’s hand was just as relentless as the pounding of his hips.

He fucked in so deep that when Pei Siyin came, the pleasure gripped every nerve in his body like a net. His vision blurred. The pillow beneath him soaked through with dark stains of sweat and tears.

Song Shengyang took the fresh load that had just spilled from Pei Siyin and smeared it over his cock again. It was still slick, still twitching with sensitivity. When Song Shengyang touched it, Pei Siyin collapsed onto the bed, legs trembling at the root.

His entire face was drenched in sweat, flushed a soft, aching pink from lust.
Song Shengyang leaned down to kiss him, licking away the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. The kiss was tender, but the way he pounded into his hole was anything but.

Pei Siyin felt like he was floating, tossed into a cloud of dizzying pleasure. Moans laced with syrupy whimpers slipped from his lips. The bed creaked faintly under them, a soft contrast to the violence of their rhythm. It had to be said, Song Shengyang’s bed was definitely sturdier than his own.

The raised veins along the shaft scraped against every sensitive spot inside him. Pei Siyin was soaked through, his lower half aching and sore, stretched open to the limit. Song Shengyang buried his face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the light sweat there. He caught the scent of flowers, exactly the same one as the night they first met.

He thought back to all the teasing Pei Siyin had done before, all those bold, shameless provocations.

“Wife, you really can’t handle too much fucking.”

He had the guts to do it, but not the stamina to handle it.

Pei Siyin heard Song Shengyang’s ragged breath against his ear. That maddening obsession, that wild frenzy he stirred in him was an aphrodisiac, poured straight into his veins.

Above them, the ceiling light fractured into scattered halos. Pei Siyin’s moans turned into tear-soaked whimpers. His vision shook, warped by the tremble burning in his chest. He clung to Song Shengyang’s neck, eyes brimming with tears, legs curling upward to wrap around Song Shengyang’s relentlessly moving hips.

Song Shengyang let go of his waist, slipping one hand into his hair and cupping the back of his head. “Move in with me.”

Pei Siyin was in a daze, too fogged up to even think past the cock still thrusting inside him. His lips parted, and he said, “I have my own place.”

“I know you do,” Song Shengyang kissed the corner of his lips, then down to the side of his neck. After a moment of thought, he added, “Monday through Friday you sleep here. On weekends, I’ll sleep at your place.”

Which meant, in the end, they were going to sleep together every single day.

Pei Siyin let out a soft whimper from his nose. “What difference does it make?”

Song Shengyang smiled down at him, tracing the hickeys along his neck. He bent down and sucked another one in, darker and deeper. “None. I just want to be with you.”

His cock sank all the way in, burying to the base. Pei Siyin’s stomach tightened. The soft, clenching heat inside him was stretched until it throbbed with feverish numbness.

Song Shengyang held him down and fucked into him. The slick fluids leaking from his hole dripped down his thighs onto the bed. Pei Siyin’s legs went weak with soreness, his face buried in Song Shengyang’s neck, able to make only broken sounds. Both of them were drenched in sweat, submerged in the fire of their need.

By the end, Pei Siyin had no strength left. His legs slipped bonelessly from around Song Shengyang’s waist. They hung open, spread wide, while the tingling in his belly sparked straight up his spine to his scalp. His breaths came harsh and ragged. All he could manage were muffled sobs.

Song Shengyang straightened up, grabbing Pei Siyin by the waist and slamming forward. He saw the way Pei Siyin’s tear-soaked eyes glistened, how the slanted light traced his flushed, erotic expression. The bed swelled with heat around them. Song Shengyang came deep inside him, spilling everything into his hole.

Pei Siyin trembled from the creampie, his hips jerking as if they had a mind of their own. Song Shengyang held him in place until he finished, only then slowly withdrawing his cock from his body.

The stretched rim of his hole gaped in a wide, flushed circle, twitching around nothing. Song Shengyang pressed a hand to Pei Siyin’s lower belly, and thick, pearly cum immediately spilled out. It pushed free in pulses, that tight rim clenching and opening in turns.

He reached up to touch Pei Siyin’s face, then licked his ear, tongue wrapping around the lobe in slow, messy strokes. His cock, barely softened, was already hard again. He pressed the glans against that still-leaking entrance and pushed back in, using the cum as lube.

Pei Siyin’s back arched uncontrollably. His wet, well-used hole welcomed him again.

Song Shengyang whispered by his ear, thrusting in and out. “When are you moving in?”

Pei Siyin’s hearing went blank for a moment. When he didn’t answer, Song Shengyang grabbed his waist and shoved his cock deep.

Pei Siyin cried out, a high, helpless sound. His hands were pinned above his head as Song Shengyang began a fresh round of fucking.

“Next week… I’ll move in next week.”

Song Shengyang kissed his lips. “Why not this week?”

His wrists still restrained, Pei Siyin choked back a sob, his voice growing louder, thick with tears. “The play… I have rehearsals this week… I’m really busy.”

He tried instinctively to arch his chest. Song Shengyang let go of his hands and slid his fingers over the hardened buds on his chest. With a touch of regret, he replied, “Then next week it is.”

He leaned down and took the swollen red nipple on the left side into his mouth, tongue piercing dragging across it as he sucked.