Paul knew there was a streak of mischief underneath all of Gabriel's cool and calm demeanor. He had seen it when Gabriel was wild with pleasure, lost in the throes of ecstasy and straining for more, but Paul had always been in control in those moments. Gabriel with free reign was a dangerous creature, no longer the sweet docile dove but the devious cat, green eyes wide and focused on his prize. He did not realize he was swatting at a tiger.<br/><br/>Gabriel settled himself on Paul's lap, eager to be close as he did it again. Paul groaned once more, a sound that seemed more angry than pleased, more affronted than delighted but that was to disguise just how much Paul loved it. He would moan if he did not try to swallow it down. He would sob, and that would be mortifying.<br/><br/>Though he tried to control his reactions, Paul's body betrayed him all the same. His hands came up out of the water as Gabriel squeezed. To strike him perhaps, or grab at him and dig in his fingers, to pull him closer so he could ravage him with his mouth. He didnt though, managing to control his knee jerk reaction to make it all stop. His hands hovered and then clenched into white knuckled fists as Gabriel had his fun.<br/><br/>Paul's hips twitched, his neck strained, the entirety of his body taught with the desperate need to remain completely still. He had promised. He had said Gabriel was allowed to clean him and he would keep to his word, even if he wanted nothing more than to grab Gabriel by the throat and fuck him senseless.<br/><br/>"There is more to wash..." Paul said as smoothly as he could, which was a terrible mimicry of his usual stoic voice. "I suggest you do so before the water turns cold."