'<em>Boy</em>' - again. Even with his body demanding release and Master Ryan's fingers drawing away even as he lifted towards them, Atticus grinned briefly, knowing how small a gap there was between their ages. The amusement and frustration he felt didn't diminish the rush of satisfaction and happiness at having pleased Master Ryan, and he wished he could bask under that smile always. Still... to be called 'boy'... Anel was a boy. Cam was a boy. Atticus no longer qualified to be such. He even drew breath to say something about it, but he caught the words back before they left his tongue as the Master spoke.<br/><br/><em>"I think that would be an interesting test, Louis... To see if you can live up to those words."</em><br/><br/>Whatever he had thought to say, it left his mind in a rush, as did the breath intended for them. Instead of words, he gave voice to a breathy moan, his own hands twitching as the Master's squeezed his shaft and started to work it, and oh fuck, why had he said that, why had he promised, because it was torture. But he wouldn't beg, not yet. He would control himself, his body, his desire, because Master Ryan wanted him to and<em>he</em>wanted to. But fuck it all, why had he taken himself so far along - he gasped and his hips bucked as Master Ryan's hand slid to his tip, and he couldn't relax again until it had slid back down towards his balls. Gods, they<em>ached</em>. He would not release, he would<em>not</em>! He had to calm down or he would crack a tooth or shred his hands on the bath rim.<br/><br/>He swallowed and caught his breath, not thinking to slow it but sooth it so it was steady and consistent, not stop-and-start. And while it was impossible to ignore the hand moving so tauntingly on his flesh, he blinked and forced himself to look at Master Ryan as if he would never see the man again. Lips, shining wet, knowing smirk. Pale, pale skin, slightly pinked from the steam, dark brows, dark hair, long, silk. Dark, endless eyes. He was so close, but just a little too far for his mouth to reach. It was a good thing, he thought with not a little bitterness. He didn't know if he could hold this temporary calm if he kissed the Master.