That same jealousy exists in Michael as well. That need for the world to see the mark he left on Max's body and know Max belonged to him and him alone. The mark was a warning to others as much as it was a promise, a vow to his lover.

Those blood-stained fingers gripped tight in his hair, pull a groan from deep in his chest. He's gasping by the time he pulls off Max's cock. He laps at the blood still dripping from the mark on his shoulder before reaching for his mouth, desperate to kiss him, to share this holy communion with the man he loves more than life itself.

He licks into Max's mouth, blood and come mixing with saliva and Michael's body trembles from the sheer intensity of what they just shared, of everything he feels. Desperation comes in many forms but when it comes to Max it's always an all-consuming thing that takes him over completely, mind, body, and soul. Getting married was the next logical step, a way to be tied together completely and another sign to the world that they are bound together but even then Michael thinks he will still want more. Always more.

"Thank you," his voice is a breathless gasp against Max's lips as he cradles his face with bloody hands.