Atticus felt a tense knot in his chest ease at Master Ryan’s small smile and nod. While he kept his body fit, there was nothing he could do for the uncountable scars on his body – he had though it was not to the Master’s taste, as most of the whores were subtle-skinned and without mar for the most part. The scar on Zara’s breast flashed in his mind, but otherwise it seemed like they were porcelain dolls, perfectly sculpted.<br/><br/>He thought he was beyond such petty  insecurities, but seeing that there was no distaste on Master Ryan’s face soothed him even as the smile took a malevolent twist. Seeing Master Ryan  smile so while Atticus’ own belt was in his hands made his blood rush,  excitement and lust a thought-searing blaze in his mind, a faint shadow of uncertainty marring the perfect twisting emotion.<br/><br/>He paid it no heed, willing to take whatever Master Ryan wished to give, craving the dark intimacy it brought. The order to lie down made him hesitate, though only because he was waiting for a clearer instruction. When it didn’t come, he crawled onto the bed and lay facedown, more comfortable presenting his back – or was, until his hard, full shaft rubbed the sheets under him. He hissed softly, hips twitching with the desire to hump against the mattress came over him. He turned over, removing the temptation so he might obey Master’s Ryan’s wish for him to relax.<br/><br/>To relax was a difficult order to obey, anyway. He had rarely felt such a deep, sullen craving that licked his bones. He wanted to touch, be touched, devour and be devoured, fuck and be fucked. He lay still, his hands flexing slightly against the sheets to stop him wrapping one around his cock. His gaze fixed on Master Ryan again as he started to undress with much more compositor than Atticus hand managed. Each button seemed to take an age to undo, pale fingers tempting each silver button through its slit with an obscene languor. When the silk finally slipped away, Atticus was trying not to squirm. Master Ryan was still dressed, and for a mad instant Atticus believed that it would always be so, that the reason why Master Ryan was so large was simply due to him wearing so many layers, and no matter how many he peeled away there would be another beneath<em>that</em>.<br/><br/>He really should stop drinking Absinthe.<br/>