Sawyer doesn't totally understand what Bishop means, not really. But even so he's not in a mental place where he can say no to him. His body is too heated, slick and desperate for his mate to fill him up more, desperate to belong to him.

He feels the tease of teeth, the sharpness against his skin but the other doesn't press down. He tugs at his cock some more, whimpering and not able to reach that peak yet.

"Anything, please. I'm yours," he pants. Just make him feel good, fill him up.