“No biting.” Michael says just before Vincent can sink his teeth into the skin of his neck. “Makeup will kill me if I show up with any visible marks.” From where he kneels above him, Vincent smirks.
“Alright,” He says, already sliding down the younger man’s body. “No visible marks.” He gives the other man one quick glimpse at a smirk before promptly sinking his teeth into his chest, quick to slide his lips down lower. All the way, Michael moans.