Paul already knew about Gabriel's fear of abandonment. Nothing made him so anxious as the thought of Paul leaving him before they were done, well that is until now, after this interesting discovery, this aversion to tenderness. Combining both such fears had the boy near sweating, those beautiful green eyes so wide with delicious terror.<br/><br/>Paul chuckled. A soft treacherous sound, so darkly amused by Gabriel's distress. This was more fun than actually beating him and Paul adored leaving his mark on his angel. His hand moved down to Gabriel's neck, faintly trailing along the red brand around his throat but not pressing or prodding, just a soft gentle touch lacking the inherent malice that colored their every interaction.<br/><br/>"I will sweetheart," he reassured, still sounding too caring, too intimate, "oh, I will."<br/><br/>Paul then extricated himself from Gabriel and stood. He quickly unbuckled the cuffs, peeling their soft assuredness from his limbs. He set them aside and pulled Gabriel up to stand so he could wrap his arms around the boy and gather him to Paul's chest. It was an embrace, a... hug. A simple act so inconsistent with Paul's character.<br/><br/>"Look, darling, look what I had planned for you," Paul said, and nodded to their little table of toys.<br/><br/>There was their favorite red flogger with the knots at the ends, a mean looking wooden paddle, a magic wand and several dildos of varying sizes and a dozen clamps with a vicious pinch that Gabriel knew well. Now they would use none of them tonight.<br/><br/>"I could have had you strung up and bleeding already, my marks crosshatching your body, painting you red and pink," Paul sighed, sounding regretful as he rocked Gabriel in his arms, "I could have seen you at your most beautiful already, lost in your exquisite pain. Your face in agony is my absolute favorite, and yet I am denied. We are denied..."<br/><br/>He looked down at Gabriel, his fake smile fading away as his hand reach down and dug into the boy's ass cheek, nails cruelly digging in hard enough to draw blood.<br/><br/>"Now whose fault is that?" He asked coldly, finally sounding like himself again.