Jean-Claude always feels as if it's a sloppier, less efficient, and overall crueler method of finding prey to rely on force. Hunting for him and others of his line employ the most effective snare of all: that their prey desires to be there. Because of this, they won't even attempt to leave -- and often they'll walk themselves right into his palms. Like now.

As much as he's had living beings put their mouths on him before, Jean-Claude has never gotten used to the heat and intensity of it; his hips jerk upward into his mouth briefly in surprised hunger. He lets out a breath, suddenly breaking the illusion of a deathly statue, and he watches Jon with lidded eyes, unwilling to miss a moment. He is far from taking this for granted. He wouldn't have expected Jonathan to be this assertive, but now that he's seeing it, it makes sense somehow -- and it suggests to him that the rest of the time, he is only hiding his nature behind the veneer of a ruffled academic. Jean-Claude is eager to coax more of this out of him.

"You have been hiding this, haven't you?" he asks in a deeper, lower voice, a hand raising to scrape through Jon's hair and end on an affectionate caress. "Not the desire, I would know if you were hiding that, but this forwardness. What an unexpected delight." For now, he tries to keep himself still until he has a sense of how comfortable Jon is with the position, though he doesn't manage it entirely, his hand a little controlling, his cock sometimes pushing forward to try to find a rhythm.