Vasquez gives a huffy sniff of a sound, but his complaints fade away when Sweeney starts biting like that, his back arching off the bed when his hips are anchored. Despite the reprimand, Vasquez never did know when to shut up.

"Don't need to have a cunt to know I like the itch of beard burn," he retorts, but even those words falter at the next bite. "Am I lovely? Good," he says, full of pride and vanity.

Good both ways, he'll take that.