At last, he saw understanding dawn in Noctis' eyes. And perhaps a little respect for the powerful werewolf. When the young weredragon bared his throat, Russell knew he'd done the right thing. That simple gesture was one he understood. Submission.
Bending low, he ran his tongue along the younger man's neck, tasting his acquiescence. He lightly nipped at his neck, at the side of his jaw. Accepting. He could smell, feel Noctis' arousal, though he knew the boy was in no shape to go any farther. Not tonight.
Russell stood, letting his arms shift back. Gently, he scooped Noctis into his arms. He held the younger man close to him and jogged through the woods.