Atticus shuddered at the crude proclamation, his name making it so very personal, so very real. The soft spoken words were like fur brushing gently against his skin, their stark meaning resonating deep into his mind. His cock twitched eagerly in the man’s hand, his hands flexing in the silk that covered Mater Ryan’s back.<em>Yes</em>, he thought, "Yes," he started to whisper – but Master Ryan’s teeth sank into soft flesh, and Atticus cried out at the sudden brilliant pain, his hips driving against the large man’s hand and thigh.<br/><br/>When Master Ryan pulled back, Atticus growled unhappily, tensing as if he were going to try to take control, and bring his Master back to him, but the tension of his muscles dropped away the next heartbeat, Atticus’ breathing shallow and shaky, his hands releasing the Master of the House and his tongue exploring the bloody bitemarks on his lip.<br/><br/>His gaze moved over the bedroom he had known was here, but never seen, though his attention was focused on his employer and the next words he said, so quiet it was barely louder than their breathing.<br/><br/>Atticus worked off his gloves first, pinching the end of each finger to ease the tight leather off his fingers, the pulled it off and let it drop. He had no patience for the second glove and simply bit the tip of the index finger and dragged it off that way, not caring if he damaged the glove as he did so. The shirt went next, a few remaining buttons scattering in his haste to obey. His belt gave quickly to his impatient jerking, as did the narrow garter that held the sheath against his thigh, and he slid the sheath free of the belt itself so quickly the leather cracked the air.<br/><br/>Wordlessly, he handed it to Master Ryan, then braced one hand to the wall and he toed off his boots. Only then did it occur to him that the man might have wanted more of a show, after the playful teasing of earlier that morning, and here he was tearing off his clothes like a sailor just in port. In a way, that was what he was.<br/><br/>Too late to make it more titillating and in no mood to try, Atticus removed his breeches. It was absolutely impossible to be graceful getting free of such form-fitting trousers, but at least he was now undressed. He started towards the bed, glancing to Master Ryan to see his expression.<br/>