He was holding on so tightly that he almost didn't realize he'd made words, until he did. He whimpered, hands flown up over his mouth, not quite biting his own fingers in a frantic, roughshod hunt for control. He was moaning too hard to keep them there, nudging his fingers open again with the effort of it--to stop calling out, or to start--he wasn't sure which, only that he felt everything, so much, so good, and it was all he could do to keep any more words from leaping free of his tongue.

Of course, Master had no such restrictions, his alpha who knew, now, exactly how much Clu loved to hear from him. Who had seen and heard what this newest wrinkle in their little game was doing to him. Who could tell that caught was looping tight in his blood and still was gently nudging Clu through his paces.

Who was free to express himself however he chose, as alpha, as lord of the house, who knew his way through these things and knew better than Clu might himself everything a hungry servant starved of contact could long for.

Certainly, the thin healing scar tucked just under his collar prickled and burned for the idea, for how much he might want that chance. To give himself away, utterly, to one who would care for him in return--who might even exalt him to freedom.

Who might keep him, if they were mated.

"Ah!" Sharp, leaping off somewhere bright. "Oh, Master, please--" not quite right, not quite enough, even as he carved the title into lavish praise with his tongue, "aanh, Alpha, may I come?"