Paul wanted him to speak, pressing more vague kisses onto his skin as he opened Gabriel's legs; they fell apart with ease, but he wasn't as hard as he'd been earlier, before he'd slipped up so badly.  Fear and anxiety had taken that away from him, and the tiny touches, the feel of Paul's lips... they were better than nothing, but not enough.  Not near enough.<br/><br/>By now, Gabriel should be battered and bruised, should be constricted with chains and ropes dug deeply into his flesh, leaving wonderous burning marks and purple blooms...  He should be wailing with ecstasy, not being idly tickled by the barest trace of his master.  Another kiss, this one to the velvety smoothness of his inner thigh, and once again there was the maddening, frustrating emptiness-- not a single bit of pain, not the slightest hurt.  Just...  Nothing.<br/><br/>It was a trap, Gabriel knew, but there was nowhere else to go except wherever Paul directed.  The man saw everything, knew everything; it was like he could read minds.  He knew more than God.<br/><br/>"I wanted you to be here, sir," he began, hesitating but aware he couldn't stop.  "I wanted to see you, I... I wanted to be with you tonight..."  His face felt hot, embarrassed to let slip his inner thoughts, and the color showed just faintly on his cheeks.  Those green eyes stayed on Paul, minding his order to look at him when the boy spoke, but it was hard to say such personal things when he'd rather be silent, be the good angel Paul had thought him to be.<br/><br/>"I wanted you to make me yours again...  Because I am yours, sir.  Always yours..."  His lyrical voice floated in the air, quiet little notes flitting from his tongue as he gazed at Paul longingly, two brilliant pools of jade in a pale and slender face.  He had only wanted to enjoy Paul's company, to enjoy<i>Paul</i>, but he had ruined things with his own frivolity, and could only beg for Paul to let him fix his errors.