Instinctively, Sawyer moves on those fingers and his body is craving more than that. It’s wanting his mate, his knot. Still, even just these fingers it’s more pleasure than he’s ever had. He moans as the other’s teeth drag over his skin. It doesn’t hurt, it just tingles, it stirs the heat inside of him even more.
“N… no. Never like this,” Sawyer pants out, trying to hold back another whimpered moan as he rides back on the other’s fingers.
“That’s just proof you’re mine,” he murmurs and thrusts his fingers, stretching and curling inside of him, looking for all of the sweet spots.
Bishop swallows a growl; it isn’t anger its more from pleasure than anything. Maybe a tiny warning, “don’t hold back with me. Make all the noises you want. I want them.”
Sawyer holds tight around the others neck as the others fingers explore
him. As the other speaks it just enhances how good it is. He finds himself
more at ease with the idea of being Bishop’s. It’s almost certain that part
of this is the claiming, the primal urges of their bodies that they’re
denying even now. But not all of it.
The others fingers press to a spot that makes Sawyer arch, a keening cry
out as he tightens around Bishop’s fingers. It takes a moment before Sawyer
even realizes through the pleasure that he’s coming.
Bishop isn’t sure but he thinks he might have said the word out loud when he feels Sawyers body clench around his fingers. The slippery feel of of body gripping his fingers is felt in other places but he doesn’t care that he wasn’t falling apart equally right now.
The sound of his mates orgasm is enough. A thrill runs up his back and makes his scalp tingle, and Bishop noses against the others neck, cradling him closer to himself.
When the pleasure starts to subside, Sawyer feels a thread of anxiousness
creep up. He can’t feel the mess he’s made inside his pants, the fact it
happened so suddenly and quickly… and he hadn’t gotten Bishop off…
Panting, his head tilts, exposing more of his neck to bishop. “I.. I’m…” he
struggles to compose himself enough to say a full sentence.
“I’m sorry.”
His body is still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, the intensity
of the orgasm he’d just had. It’s not his first But all others paled
miserably in comparison.
Oh. It should have been something Sawyer could figure out but everything is
still a jumble for him, what he’d come to expect all of his life is
different from Bishop.
Sawyer kisses, soft but eager, a hunger still in it. He nods at the
question. How can he say no?
“You… can do more. Really, you can,” Sawyer says softly, shifting on the
others lap and more than aware of the hardness of the others cock. He
kisses him again, rocking forward in a way that runs against the other’s
cock.
Sawyer could have said no. It was an option he would have given him; hence the question.
But the more he’s kissed, and the more the smaller male moves against him like that, the more he wants to give in. His hands grip at the others hips and for a moment he guides them better against himself. How cock is almost painfully hair but—
—he groans deep in his chest and nips him again.
“You need more time,” he breathes and deepens the kiss because while he is refusing to have sex with him for now, he still can’t get enough of him, “you should enjoy this now, because once I can have you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you. You’re perfect.”
Sawyer gasps as Bishop maneuvers him into a better angle, one that lets him
feel it all the better, one he can tell is better for his mate. For a
moment, Sawyer is sure that Bishop is going to do it, going to give into
their instincts and take him but then he doesn’t. He’s refusing something
Sawyer is willingly offering that everyone else had taken by force. He
hardly hears the rest of it. He rocks his hips, giving them both some
friction before pressing his lips to Bishop’s.
“How can I take care of you then?” He says softly, what would Bishop let
him do? Can he touch him again? Can he use his mouth. He’s hesitant to
start anything on his own. “I can’t leave you like this,” he says softly,
the scent of Bishop’s arousal is driving him a little mad.
A moan bubbles up in his throat and he’s questioning all of his life choices in this moment.
He counts to five a few times and the drowns a little in that kiss. Both hands grip the others backside again, a little harder than before but he flexes his fingers and moves them slowly back down his thighs.
“You can,” he insists. He doesn’t want him to feel obligated. He is curious, though, “…if you could do it what would you want to do to me?”
Sawyer moans at the grip on his ass, arching up into it like a cat would
almost. He feels like little more of that and he will be fully aroused and
aching again — already he’s still craving more, so much more.
As hands travel it’s a little easier to think and his lips are swollen and
wet and he bites the bottom one at the question.
He’s a little panicked by it, pulling back and clearly scrambling to think.
“I don’t know what you’d want,” he says, and more he doesn’t know what he
wouldn’t want, what would make him upset, angry — even if that’s logically
not an issue here. But the bruises all over his body have reasons behind
them, failures to please.
“Please, just tell me what you want,” he says softly.
The panic that’s written all over Sawyers body is almost tangible and Bishop doesn’t like it. He knows why he’s like this, though, and that makes it worse.
He softens a bit and considers all of their options first. He wanted to wait until Sawyer was more comfortable, more confident, to take that last step but now he’s wondering…
“…do you really want to have sex or do you just feel like you have to?”
Sawyer blinks at the question, taken aback and surprised once more. He
doesn’t answer right away because he wants to make sure he gives the right
answer, a truthful and sincere one.
The answer isn’t simple to find, there’s a lot to pick apart, to try and
tell where trauma and instinct end and begin, where desire and fear start
and stop. It’s a tangled mess but…
“I know I want to, with you.”
Sawyer murmurs, hand lifting to gently touch the others face, hesitant a
moment.
“I want you. You’re my mate. You’ll take care of me and… my body… craves
you.”
Sawyer shivers at the bite, it sends heat straight to his core. The kiss is no less arousing to him. He is surprised that Bishop seems to be changing his mind but... he also is okay with this. As long as Bishop doesn't hurt him, it'll be okay. He's surprised by how much he desperately wants Bishop to be true to his word that he'll be safe with him.
So, at the command, he shifts upward, his fingers working open his pants and he starts peeling the clothing out of the way. It's already a mess of come and slick and he feels the urge to apologize for getting the clothes messy but he manages to bite it back at least for now as he uses one hand on the other's shoulder to steady himself as he gets it off each leg and then settles back onto Bishop's lap, eyes wide as he looks at him again.
When Sawyer lifts up, giving him enough space to move a bit, Bishop pushes his joggers down and kicks them off carefully. His eyes remain on Sawyer, though. Watching every move, every little detail with hungry admiration.
His tongue skates over his lips and he can almost taste the messes Sawyer had left behind. Whatever Sawyer had been worried about, the opposite is true.
He smiles at the wide eyed expression and shakes his head, “is there anything you definitely don’t want me to do? A way you don’t like to be touched? A boundary you don’t want crossed that they never cared about?”
Sawyer's eyes are drawn down for a moment when the other had gotten his own pants off, wanting to see his length. The sight of it is mouth wateringly good and he flushes as he drags his eyes back up to Bishop's face, that expression on his face still wide-eyed, eager and careful at the same time. There's so many things but they're simple, things that Bishop has already proven he won't do.
He leans forward and kisses him, soft but a sense of heat behind it.
"Just don't hurt me," he says softly. Just let it keep feeling good. He presses closer, his entire body hot, prone, ready to be played.
“I won’t,” Bishop murmurs quietly against his he others mouth, “but if I do by accident, tell me and I’ll stop. Okay?”
Everyone was different; pain tolerance, things like that. Even if he was careful, he still didn’t know what Sawyers line was. Where was off limits or where he could cross. It would just take…practice.
Bishop nosed him again and rumbles softly against his ear, “you’re with me, not them. I’ll listen to you.”
Both hands smoothed around and he held Sawyer closer, he was mindful of the bruising and whenever he got a second to study it he tried to figure out what had made the bruises to begin with. Hands? Belts? Teeth?
Sawyer nods. That’s enough for him, that Bishop will try. He presses into
the others touch, against his body. He still takes care that he isn’t
hurting the already tender spots on Sawyer’s body. He presses another kiss
to Bishop’s lips. His hands slowly brush over his chest and down to stroke
over the others cock again.
The bruises were from so many sources and more even that don’t currently
have marks on him, they’d used their hands to bruise him, kicked him, threw
him. They’d beat him with various hard objects recently. But mostly there
are bruises from the hands holding him too roughly to keep him still.
He knows Bishop won’t use anything to hurt him. He won’t hit him, won’t
kick him. It will be okay won’t it?
The way their scents mingled together; mutual arousal and something else that he isn’t used to — Bishop would rather cut off his own hands than hurt his mate.
The softer kisses, along with the more bold touch pulls a pleased sound from deep inside of him somewhere and his hips shift back into the others touch. His hands were smaller, softer, and eager to get ahold of him. That alone made his heart race.
The kiss deepens as the hunger shifts again and before he can change his mind he moves them so that Sawyers back is against the couch cushions. It would smell like him and Bishop was more than a little excited about that. Eventually they could mark up the entire house. Less of him and more of them.
Sawyer strokes him a few times, feeling his hardness, the scent only
growing stronger. He lets out a quiet sound of surprise as he finds himself
on his back. He lets his legs fall open, hand stroking along the length of
his cock again.
“Wait I’ll… it’ll get messy,” Sawyer protests as he feels the cushion
beneath him, thinking of his slick, his come making even more of a mess
than he already has. He doesn’t want to wait.
Even as he had said it his hips arch and his hand squeezes the others cock.
“Good,” Bishop breathes and runs his hands over the others sides, hooking his knees up higher in the process so he could settle between them, “make a mess for me.”
Leather was easier to clean than fabric, anyway.
“I’m gonna need that, though,” he chuckles and he gives Sawyers hand a pointed thrust.
Sawyer bites back a sound as the other tells him to make a mess. It’s the
opposite of what he’s used to and it’s hard for him to get into the mindset
of it but he doesn’t argue anymore. He inhaled as his body is repositioned
and the thrust into his hand makes him ache to feel that somewhere else.
He lets go of his cock, his hand drawing away and wavering on where to put
it in this new position. His breath comes out a little hitched.
There’s no denying he’s nervous, that worried about this. He wants to
please Bishop. He wants to be good. And his body craves it, needs it. He
just simply wants him.
Free to move, Bishop hovers over the smaller body, and reaches to tip his chin, “Look at me. Don’t look away.”
He wants to be able to judge whether or not he’s actually hurting him, but on another level he just wants to watch that pretty face shift with the pleasure of it.
It only takes a few adjustments to line himself up with the others slick entrance, and he slowly presses forward; easing deeper inside of him and it feels like heaven. It feels like the most perfect fit, nothing could be better than the way this boy feels wrapped around him.
With a moan he noses against him and steals a kiss, seating his cock fully inside and giving the other a moment to adjust.
Sawyer’s eyes widen again but he nods. “Okay,” he agrees softly. He wants
to squeeze his eyes shut to deal with the nerves he feels but he keeps them
open, keeps looking at the other.
Soon, he feels the blunt head of Bishop’s cock pushing against his entrance
and then easily slipping inside of him. He gasps, his body gripping him and
it feels so good. He reaches to grab the others bicep as if to steady
himself in place.
He kisses back, feeling full. He parts his lips and drags the kiss on. His
eyes squeeze shut. Fuck. This feels better than anything he’s felt before.
“Don’t stop,” he mewls against the others lips.
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“N… no. Never like this,” Sawyer pants out, trying to hold back another whimpered moan as he rides back on the other’s fingers.
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Bishop swallows a growl; it isn’t anger its more from pleasure than anything. Maybe a tiny warning, “don’t hold back with me. Make all the noises you want. I want them.”
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Sawyer holds tight around the others neck as the others fingers explore him. As the other speaks it just enhances how good it is. He finds himself more at ease with the idea of being Bishop’s. It’s almost certain that part of this is the claiming, the primal urges of their bodies that they’re denying even now. But not all of it.
The others fingers press to a spot that makes Sawyer arch, a keening cry out as he tightens around Bishop’s fingers. It takes a moment before Sawyer even realizes through the pleasure that he’s coming.
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Bishop isn’t sure but he thinks he might have said the word out loud when he feels Sawyers body clench around his fingers. The slippery feel of of body gripping his fingers is felt in other places but he doesn’t care that he wasn’t falling apart equally right now.
The sound of his mates orgasm is enough. A thrill runs up his back and makes his scalp tingle, and Bishop noses against the others neck, cradling him closer to himself.
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When the pleasure starts to subside, Sawyer feels a thread of anxiousness creep up. He can’t feel the mess he’s made inside his pants, the fact it happened so suddenly and quickly… and he hadn’t gotten Bishop off…
Panting, his head tilts, exposing more of his neck to bishop. “I.. I’m…” he struggles to compose himself enough to say a full sentence.
“I’m sorry.”
His body is still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, the intensity of the orgasm he’d just had. It’s not his first But all others paled miserably in comparison.
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Nipping the side of his neck playfully, Bishop rumbled lowly and slowly leans back to steal a kiss.
“No, that made me happy,” he says against his mouth, licking out to taste him again, “can I do it again before bed?”
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Oh. It should have been something Sawyer could figure out but everything is still a jumble for him, what he’d come to expect all of his life is different from Bishop.
Sawyer kisses, soft but eager, a hunger still in it. He nods at the question. How can he say no?
“You… can do more. Really, you can,” Sawyer says softly, shifting on the others lap and more than aware of the hardness of the others cock. He kisses him again, rocking forward in a way that runs against the other’s cock.
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But the more he’s kissed, and the more the smaller male moves against him like that, the more he wants to give in. His hands grip at the others hips and for a moment he guides them better against himself. How cock is almost painfully hair but—
—he groans deep in his chest and nips him again.
“You need more time,” he breathes and deepens the kiss because while he is refusing to have sex with him for now, he still can’t get enough of him, “you should enjoy this now, because once I can have you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you. You’re perfect.”
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Sawyer gasps as Bishop maneuvers him into a better angle, one that lets him feel it all the better, one he can tell is better for his mate. For a moment, Sawyer is sure that Bishop is going to do it, going to give into their instincts and take him but then he doesn’t. He’s refusing something Sawyer is willingly offering that everyone else had taken by force. He hardly hears the rest of it. He rocks his hips, giving them both some friction before pressing his lips to Bishop’s.
“How can I take care of you then?” He says softly, what would Bishop let him do? Can he touch him again? Can he use his mouth. He’s hesitant to start anything on his own. “I can’t leave you like this,” he says softly, the scent of Bishop’s arousal is driving him a little mad.
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He counts to five a few times and the drowns a little in that kiss. Both hands grip the others backside again, a little harder than before but he flexes his fingers and moves them slowly back down his thighs.
“You can,” he insists. He doesn’t want him to feel obligated. He is curious, though, “…if you could do it what would you want to do to me?”
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Sawyer moans at the grip on his ass, arching up into it like a cat would almost. He feels like little more of that and he will be fully aroused and aching again — already he’s still craving more, so much more.
As hands travel it’s a little easier to think and his lips are swollen and wet and he bites the bottom one at the question.
He’s a little panicked by it, pulling back and clearly scrambling to think.
“I don’t know what you’d want,” he says, and more he doesn’t know what he wouldn’t want, what would make him upset, angry — even if that’s logically not an issue here. But the bruises all over his body have reasons behind them, failures to please.
“Please, just tell me what you want,” he says softly.
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He softens a bit and considers all of their options first. He wanted to wait until Sawyer was more comfortable, more confident, to take that last step but now he’s wondering…
“…do you really want to have sex or do you just feel like you have to?”
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Sawyer blinks at the question, taken aback and surprised once more. He doesn’t answer right away because he wants to make sure he gives the right answer, a truthful and sincere one.
The answer isn’t simple to find, there’s a lot to pick apart, to try and tell where trauma and instinct end and begin, where desire and fear start and stop. It’s a tangled mess but…
“I know I want to, with you.”
Sawyer murmurs, hand lifting to gently touch the others face, hesitant a moment.
“I want you. You’re my mate. You’ll take care of me and… my body… craves you.”
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Bishop does take him seriously, though. He turns his face to gently bite the others palm, kissing it before he releases a sigh.
“Take your pants off,” he murmurs thickly.
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So, at the command, he shifts upward, his fingers working open his pants and he starts peeling the clothing out of the way. It's already a mess of come and slick and he feels the urge to apologize for getting the clothes messy but he manages to bite it back at least for now as he uses one hand on the other's shoulder to steady himself as he gets it off each leg and then settles back onto Bishop's lap, eyes wide as he looks at him again.
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His tongue skates over his lips and he can almost taste the messes Sawyer had left behind. Whatever Sawyer had been worried about, the opposite is true.
He smiles at the wide eyed expression and shakes his head, “is there anything you definitely don’t want me to do? A way you don’t like to be touched? A boundary you don’t want crossed that they never cared about?”
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He leans forward and kisses him, soft but a sense of heat behind it.
"Just don't hurt me," he says softly. Just let it keep feeling good. He presses closer, his entire body hot, prone, ready to be played.
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Everyone was different; pain tolerance, things like that. Even if he was careful, he still didn’t know what Sawyers line was. Where was off limits or where he could cross. It would just take…practice.
Bishop nosed him again and rumbles softly against his ear, “you’re with me, not them. I’ll listen to you.”
Both hands smoothed around and he held Sawyer closer, he was mindful of the bruising and whenever he got a second to study it he tried to figure out what had made the bruises to begin with. Hands? Belts? Teeth?
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Sawyer nods. That’s enough for him, that Bishop will try. He presses into the others touch, against his body. He still takes care that he isn’t hurting the already tender spots on Sawyer’s body. He presses another kiss to Bishop’s lips. His hands slowly brush over his chest and down to stroke over the others cock again.
The bruises were from so many sources and more even that don’t currently have marks on him, they’d used their hands to bruise him, kicked him, threw him. They’d beat him with various hard objects recently. But mostly there are bruises from the hands holding him too roughly to keep him still.
He knows Bishop won’t use anything to hurt him. He won’t hit him, won’t kick him. It will be okay won’t it?
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The softer kisses, along with the more bold touch pulls a pleased sound from deep inside of him somewhere and his hips shift back into the others touch. His hands were smaller, softer, and eager to get ahold of him. That alone made his heart race.
The kiss deepens as the hunger shifts again and before he can change his mind he moves them so that Sawyers back is against the couch cushions. It would smell like him and Bishop was more than a little excited about that. Eventually they could mark up the entire house. Less of him and more of them.
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Sawyer strokes him a few times, feeling his hardness, the scent only growing stronger. He lets out a quiet sound of surprise as he finds himself on his back. He lets his legs fall open, hand stroking along the length of his cock again.
“Wait I’ll… it’ll get messy,” Sawyer protests as he feels the cushion beneath him, thinking of his slick, his come making even more of a mess than he already has. He doesn’t want to wait.
Even as he had said it his hips arch and his hand squeezes the others cock.
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Leather was easier to clean than fabric, anyway.
“I’m gonna need that, though,” he chuckles and he gives Sawyers hand a pointed thrust.
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Sawyer bites back a sound as the other tells him to make a mess. It’s the opposite of what he’s used to and it’s hard for him to get into the mindset of it but he doesn’t argue anymore. He inhaled as his body is repositioned and the thrust into his hand makes him ache to feel that somewhere else.
He lets go of his cock, his hand drawing away and wavering on where to put it in this new position. His breath comes out a little hitched.
There’s no denying he’s nervous, that worried about this. He wants to please Bishop. He wants to be good. And his body craves it, needs it. He just simply wants him.
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He wants to be able to judge whether or not he’s actually hurting him, but on another level he just wants to watch that pretty face shift with the pleasure of it.
It only takes a few adjustments to line himself up with the others slick entrance, and he slowly presses forward; easing deeper inside of him and it feels like heaven. It feels like the most perfect fit, nothing could be better than the way this boy feels wrapped around him.
With a moan he noses against him and steals a kiss, seating his cock fully inside and giving the other a moment to adjust.
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Sawyer’s eyes widen again but he nods. “Okay,” he agrees softly. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut to deal with the nerves he feels but he keeps them open, keeps looking at the other.
Soon, he feels the blunt head of Bishop’s cock pushing against his entrance and then easily slipping inside of him. He gasps, his body gripping him and it feels so good. He reaches to grab the others bicep as if to steady himself in place.
He kisses back, feeling full. He parts his lips and drags the kiss on. His eyes squeeze shut. Fuck. This feels better than anything he’s felt before. “Don’t stop,” he mewls against the others lips.
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