The laugh became a low, deep growl, and his thrusts became rougher, tugging Gabriel's body higher, folding him in tighter. His nails were impossibly sharp, drawing blood, but quite clearly that wasn't enough. Gabriel showed him that he wanted more. He laid the invitation out so clearly that Lucifer, panting against his throat, felt the odd thrill ripple through him straight out of his brother's spirit.

Mark him. Mark Gabriel. Mar his brother's body and spirit with a physical stain, something possessive that would perhaps fade with time. The open expanse of Gabriel's throat was plenty inviting, and he grazed his teeth against skin, bit down and then drew in his breath, sucking a mark out with teeth and curling tongue. But more than that, the bruise crawled beyond his mouth, Enochian symbols in purple red that identified Gabriel's possessor, as though Lucifer had written his name there with a thought.

It was what Gabriel had wanted.