Atticus kept Master Ryan in view for as long as he could, straitening a little as the man walked behind him. It was difficult to not twist around so he could keep looking at the Master, but to do so would look ridiculous, and spoil whatever game was being played. He didn't flinch when he felt Master Ryan looming over him, or at the touch of hands or lips, though the latter did make his breath catch with surprise.<br/><br/>When one hand slid down to his chest, light fingers brushing his skin, holding his breath for a long instant until the Master's words, his tongue, made him gasp. His eyes crushed shut, focusing on the words, the beautiful, terrible promises, the painpleasure tease of Master Ryan's long, wicked fingers. He wished suddenly he hadn't removed the silver bar that had once pieced him there. At the '<em>Mine</em>,' his eyes flashed open, the bite making him grunt softly. Joy and anger savaging each other under his skin, tearing him to pieces as he didn't know what to feel. He wanted, oh, he wanted to believe. All of it. None of it.<br/><br/>The soft-as-fur threat in Master Ryan's voice made his lust surge again, making it all the more confusing. The hand, the mouth, the man, pulled away. Atticus slumped forwards, pressing his palm against his good eye, his nails biting into his scalp as he tried to take what Master Ryan said as truth or lie, but he couldn't find faith enough to make those words one or the other. His voice sounded honest but how many times had he been lied to? How many times had Master Ryan lied to him - none at all. But he was... was wooing, wasn't he? Was he?<br/><br/>He stood up, too fast, his shoulders tensing against the shock of pain, then he was moving, pacing, frustration in every line of him. The placating whore act of a few moments ago was gone, and he glared at Master Ryan, annoyed at the hope and the instinctive distrust he'd given along with the words. Why did he have to say such things? If he wanted to fuck him, he didn't have to... to... his teeth ached he was clenching them so hard.<br/><br/><em>Calm down</em>, he told himself, his inner voice sounding like his Sword-master. He dragged his gaze off Master Ryan, and let out the air in his chest with a short, tense sigh. They were just words. Lovely, cruel words. Let him say them. It doesn't matter. The lie was bile in his mind, but he drove his thoughts away from the destructive, aggressive circles they had become ensnared by. Ignoring the joy and anger, the hope and distrust, left lust. That was fine by him.<br/><br/>His tone was tight with lingering anger and still coiling lust. "I truly hope no one needs you for a while, because I do. I do." He lifted his gaze back to Master Ryan, and moved towards him.