His lips moved against Master Ryan's, welcoming, urging, wanting to catch them and deepen the chaste kiss to something more. He moaned softly at the lick over his bitten lip, making the ache sing sweetly. The deep, close purr made his skin feel overheated and he wanted to press close against the man, urge him to do just that. "Surprisingly, that seems to lessen my motivation to go," he replied, the last of the anger draining away, though frustration was eager to take its place.<br/><br/>He pulled back, however, stepping away from Master Ryan. It made him ache to do so. He wondered if Master Ryan felt it also, just for a moment before he dismissed the fantasy and walked to the desk. He stroked its edge and repressed a sigh, then picked up his shirt, folding it over his arm and going to the door into Master Ryan's bedroom. He hesitate, wondering whether he should say something. Apologise, or invite Master Ryan to come and watch him, like he teased he would. But he wasn't sure which would be the most welcomed, if either of them would be. So he said nothing. His glance back at the Master of the House was a mute question he didn't wait to hear an answer to, walking into the bedroom and leaving the man behind.<br/><br/>The bathroom was just as richly luxurious as the bedroom it was attached to. "Thank-you, Mary," Atticus said to the singing woman, his hands tugging his shirt out from his breeches. The maid bobbed in a curtsy, and he swore she had a smirk. She left a moment later and he shook his head, stripping slower than he had at Master Ryan's order.<br/><br/>Had it been a mistake? No, he refused to believe it. They had bother wanted it, rough and savage as it was. His hand lifted to the shallow cut, already healing. It wouldn't scar, which was a pity. His scars meant little to him, he couldn't recall what had caused the host of them, but one from Master Ryan... that, he would cherish. The man had given him more than any one else, but Ellen.<br/><br/>He felt a pang of guilt and stepped into the hot water, hissing as another pang reminded him of the less than gentle means he had been taken. He sank into the water, groaning at the heat. Ah, but it was good. The lingering soreness of his muscles from the morning, the aches Master Ryan had given him, they all eased, melting in the hot water. The one ache that didn't came from his half hard cock. He wondered if he'd ever be able to be in Master Ryan's presence ever again without his blood rushing south. The idea made him smirk.<br/><br/>He picked up Master Ryan's sponge, wondering if he would mind it being used, and lathered it with soap, rubbing the sweat from his skin with languid motions.