Jean-Claude's smile widens slowly. He is a vampire, after all. He is acutely aware of the other man's pulse jumping quick in his chest and the spread of color across his cheeks, and that too charms him. It charms him because he understands that such a reaction is not from fear of him, after all, but something else altogether.

He has to fight the urge to reach out and stroke a hand along the line of Daryl's chest, the way he had done to the large cat he had found in his lap moments earlier. Something tells him that the other man may not appreciate such a gesture, alas, and Jean-Claude does not want to push him too far. He does adjust his grip on the other man to hold him a little more closely against him though. Smiling down at him wickedly as he speaks up again to ask, "Is there something the matter, mon ami? Has the cat got your tongue, perhaps?"