Earlier, Jean-Claude had said that danger is attractive to some people, that he has a fascination with survivors. Both are very much true. His eyes darken at these little reveals, not in predatory intent but in appreciation for Jon feeling at ease enough to let them slip. He does, of course, appreciate this situation as a predator as well. A deep sense of satisfaction is building, that he's put someone exactly where he wants them.
The difference between Jean-Claude and so many other vampires - other monsters - that he knows is that he is satiated by having, not by doing. He doesn't need to play with his food. Normally, Jean-Claude keeps himself scrubbed clean of the more truly predatory aspects of his nature, a showman and a businessman teasing humans with a glimpse of something more. With this tacit permission, he has an internal sense of a wolf leisurely stretching out and yawning, showing all its teeth. Well then. Time to wake up.
It heightens the singing tension of the ardeur.
"As you desire. I will not take much," he promises, with a smile that is its own promise. "You are to be savored like a fine liquer. I have my own food; you are a delicacy. Without the mind tricks, it will hurt... but you will enjoy that, won't you?"
Jean-Claude sounds thoughtful but self-assured, a heavier weight of intent behind his voice, something of a giveaway before he leans in without waiting for a reply and kisses him, hand still holding him in place. Boundaries agreed upon, he doesn't make any attempt to withhold his fangs; it's an assertive kiss, demanding, the ardeur pulsing more sharply with lust at his surrender, waves building higher gradually as they give in.
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The difference between Jean-Claude and so many other vampires - other monsters - that he knows is that he is satiated by having, not by doing. He doesn't need to play with his food. Normally, Jean-Claude keeps himself scrubbed clean of the more truly predatory aspects of his nature, a showman and a businessman teasing humans with a glimpse of something more. With this tacit permission, he has an internal sense of a wolf leisurely stretching out and yawning, showing all its teeth. Well then. Time to wake up.
It heightens the singing tension of the ardeur.
"As you desire. I will not take much," he promises, with a smile that is its own promise. "You are to be savored like a fine liquer. I have my own food; you are a delicacy. Without the mind tricks, it will hurt... but you will enjoy that, won't you?"
Jean-Claude sounds thoughtful but self-assured, a heavier weight of intent behind his voice, something of a giveaway before he leans in without waiting for a reply and kisses him, hand still holding him in place. Boundaries agreed upon, he doesn't make any attempt to withhold his fangs; it's an assertive kiss, demanding, the ardeur pulsing more sharply with lust at his surrender, waves building higher gradually as they give in.