172: Chapter 172 The wet part is sweat

She flushed from her earlobes down to her neck, even her collarbones stained with a layer of pink.

"Yang, Brother Yang, why are you here?"

Luo Shiyun's voice trembled as she scrambled to stand up from the Yoga mat.

Her legs were still weak; she tried to push herself up but couldn't manage it, falling back down.

Wang Yang didn't give her that chance.

He strode over, reaching the side of the Yoga mat in a few steps, and looked down at her.

Luo Shiyun tilted her head to look at him, her face flushed as if it were on fire. With her hands braced behind her and her legs splayed, she looked like a little rabbit that had been caught—panicked and shy.

"Brother Yang, you, please don't look at me like that."

Wang Yang crouched down, one hand bracing itself on the Yoga mat beside her.

His other hand pinched her chin, lifting her face up.

"Look how? Hmm? Tell me, how am I looking at you?"

His voice was low and hoarse, carrying a magnetism that made one's legs go weak.

Luo Shiyun's eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, her gaze darting everywhere, not daring to land on his face.

"Just, just that kind of look."

Wang Yang laughed.

"Which kind? Be specific. If you aren't clear, how am I supposed to know?"

Luo Shiyun bit her lip, her voice as quiet as a mosquito's hum.

"Just, the very bad kind."

Wang Yang's hand slid from her chin to her neck, his fingertips grazing that sweat-dampened skin; the touch was slick and warm.

"Bad? Where am I bad? I just walked in and haven't done anything, yet you're calling me bad?"

Luo Shiyun's body trembled slightly, her hands gripping the edge of the Yoga mat until her knuckles turned white.

"You, you are just bad. The moment you look at me, I know what you're thinking."

Wang Yang's hand slid from her neck to her collarbone, his fingertips pausing there to draw light circles.

"Then tell me, what am I thinking?"

Luo Shiyun bit her lip, refusing to say.

Wang Yang's hand continued to slide down, his fingertips touching the edge of her sports bra.

Luo Shiyun shuddered, a soft hum escaping her lips.

"Brother Yang, don't."

Wang Yang didn't stop; he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Her waist was slender and soft. Having just finished exercising, her skin still held the damp heat of sweat, smooth as satin.

His palm pressed against her, and he could feel the slight trembling beneath that skin.

"Are you going to say it or not? If you don't, I'm going to continue."

Luo Shiyun bit her lip, her eyes turning red, her voice laced with a sob.

"You, you're thinking of bad things."

Wang Yang laughed, leaning down to her ear, his breath washing over her earlobe.

"What bad things? Hmm? Tell me, let me hear it."

Luo Shiyun buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, not daring to look at him.

"Just, just that kind of thing."

Wang Yang's hand slowly slid down from her waist, his fingertips grazing her side, passing over her hip bone, and landing on her thigh.

Through the thin Yoga pants, he could feel the tightness and damp heat of her skin.

The fabric of the Yoga pants was very slick and thin; placing his fingers on it allowed him to directly feel the curve of the muscles underneath.

His fingertips traced light circles on the outer side of her thigh, one after another, slow and leisurely.

Luo Shiyun's body tightened like a taut string, and a suppressed moan escaped her lips.

"Brother Yang, it tickles."

Wang Yang's lips pressed against her earlobe, and he gave it a light nip.

"Tickles? Where does it tickle?"

Luo Shiyun couldn't speak; she gripped his collar until her knuckles turned white.

Wang Yang stopped teasing her and lowered his head to kiss her lips.

It wasn't a light touch; it was a real kiss, carrying warmth, carrying strength, and carrying an overbearing quality that brooked no refusal.

Luo Shiyun closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck and responding to him.

Her lips were soft and hot, carrying the heat from having just exercised, along with a slight salty taste—the taste of sweat.

Wang Yang's hand slid from her thigh to her side, then from her side to her back.

His palm pressed against her sweat-dampened spine, feeling that smooth, slick skin.

Luo Shiyun was breathless from his kiss; she patted his back lightly, wanting to push him away but unable to bring herself to do it.

Wang Yang released her lips and looked down at her.

Her face was flushed as if it were on fire, her eyes were watery, and her lips were slightly swollen and red.

Her whole body was soft in his arms, like a puddle of melted water.

Wang Yang's hand slid down from her back and landed on the waistband of her Yoga pants.

His fingers hooked the edge of the waistband, and he could feel the damp heat and tightness of her skin.

Luo Shiyun's body trembled slightly, her hands gripping his wrist.

"Brother Yang, not here."

Wang Yang looked at her.

"Then where?"

Luo Shiyun bit her lip.

"Go, go to the bed."

Wang Yang didn't speak; he hooked the waistband and pulled it down a little.

The Yoga pants were very tight, clinging to her skin; as he pulled them down, they made a faint friction sound.

Luo Shiyun's waist was exposed—a stretch of fair skin with fine beads of sweat congealing on it.

Her breathing became more rapid; she gripped his wrist, wanting to stop him but not daring to use force.

"Brother Yang."

Wang Yang lowered his head and kissed her lips again.

This time, the kiss was deeper and more forceful, as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

Luo Shiyun was dizzy from his kiss, her mind a blank slate; her hands slid from his wrists and rested softly on his shoulders.

Wang Yang's hand didn't stop; he kept hooking the edge of the Yoga pants, pulling them down bit by bit.

The waistband slid from her waist to her hip bones, and from her hip bones to her buttocks.

The Yoga pants were very tight and not easy to take off; every inch downward required force.

The fabric rubbed against her skin, making a faint rustling sound.

Luo Shiyun's buttocks were exposed, fair and plump, like a peeled egg.

Her body trembled slightly; she gripped Wang Yang's collar, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, not daring to look.

Wang Yang pulled the Yoga pants down to her knees and looked down.

Then he froze.

On the inner side of the Yoga pants, there was a small, obvious wet mark.

The color was a shade darker than the surrounding area, making it particularly conspicuous against the pink fabric.

It probably wasn't sweat.

Sweat wouldn't be only in that spot.

Luo Shiyun sensed his gaze and looked down; her face instantly turned red enough to bleed.

"Don't, don't look."

She reached out to cover it, but Wang Yang grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the Yoga mat.

"Sister Shiyun."

His voice was low and hoarse, carrying a smile.

Luo Shiyun turned her face to the side, not daring to look at him, her ears burning red.

"You, you aren't allowed to say it."

Wang Yang laughed.

"I didn't say anything. I'm just looking."

Luo Shiyun bit her lip, her voice laced with a sob.

"You can't look either."

Wang Yang lowered his head and whispered in her ear.

"Then what should I do? I've already seen it. Why don't you tell me, what's going on here?"

Luo Shiyun buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, her voice muffled.

"It's, it's sweat. Sweat from doing Yoga."

Wang Yang laughed.

"Sweat? How come there's sweat in only that one spot? It looks so innocent."

Luo Shiyun was too shy to speak, gripping his collar.

She curled up in his arms like a frightened quail.

Wang Yang stopped teasing her and reached out to start taking off his own clothes.

He threw his jacket aside and pulled his T-shirt off over his head, revealing a sturdy chest and well-defined abdominal muscles.

Wang Yang's body had been strengthened by the system; his muscle lines were smooth, his shoulders broad, his waist narrow, and his lower abdomen flat and firm.