The beast rolled off a contented growl from deep within his chest as Raikov worked. Skilled as he would expect from a lover. A large hand was soon enough caressing his soft head with the backs of his fingers.

Volgin had a hard time being tender, but he could manage with the illusion of having some semblance of it when he wanted to.

A low chuckle. His voice was growing harsh and throaty in the throes of his building lust: "Good boy. Very good boy."