The burst of salt across his tongue nearly catches Faraday by surprise, but rather than back off, he works Vasquez through it, hand stroking his length, lips still wrapped around the head. It's odd, but not entirely unpleasant, and more than that, the way Vasquez twists and tenses, jerks and moans beneath him is damn near intoxicating.

It's a hell of a sight, and more than that, Faraday starts thinking that this might very well be habit-forming.

Once Vasquez lies boneless beneath him, Faraday turns, spits out the other man's spend. (All grace, is one Joshua Faraday.) He turns back, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and while his smile is very near feral, there's something soft in, it too. Something warm.

"Darlin'," he says, low and husky and something unmistakably fond in his voice. "I appreciate the offer, but you look on the verge of passin' out."