If Sawyer had said to stop, Bishop would have come to a full stop, no question. But part of him is glad he didn’t.

There is no disappointment. None.

“I will if you want me to…at any time,” he breathes and leans in to kiss him again. It’s like an addiction. He needs it. He craves the feeling of those lips, the taste of his tongue against his own. Without the added omega scent he’s used to it’s easier to focus, to be careful. But the want is the same.

Both hands move to wrap briefly around Sawyers hips to provide some sort of silent affirmation before moving between them again to slowly work the others pants open.