He looked up at Master Ryan with the petulant relative of hate twining sinuously with his amusement and held-off pleasure. Oh, it<em>did</em>feel good to not fear repercussions for letting annoyance show. His gaze dropped, gauging how precarious the man's balance was, sat so on the lip of the tub. So close... he<em>could</em>do it, just pull him in... though treating Master Ryan so disrespectfully even in though cooled his temper. No, that wouldn't do at all. As amusing as it would be, it would probably only gain him an infuriated Master of the House and not a willing bedmate.<br/><br/>His gaze returned to Master Ryan's penetrating one, lying back slightly, hands stilling as his attention was caught for a long moment by the Master's hands moving through his long, black hair. He blinked and cleared his throat, dragging his attention away from the man's hair. Convince him to join? For a moment he thought it would be easy - then he remembered this was a Master of a brothel. He'd probably witnessed every trick and eyecatch there was. How to lure the Master?<br/><br/>Well, how had he done it the first time? With words. Bold and coy both at once. Atticus caught his lit between his teeth for a second, not to relish in the ache that flared but to remind Master Ryan of giving it to him. "I was thinking of you. Your voice. Your touch. Your command." He didn't dare say he had fantasised about running away only to be discovered. "Not for the first time, either. You are in danger of becoming rather permanent in my fantasies, Master. Indulging me would guarantee it..."