The inversion of his features broke up the brain's usual means of integrating them. His eyes, his smirk, nose, jaw and cheekbones hovered above her seemingly dislocated, unable to be reassembled into a coherent face or expression. He might as well be some alien or monster, leering and making unreadable promises with his gaze.<br/><br/>“Never, huh?” Jon drawled, running his eyes slowly over Hannah's supine form. He appreciated the way the chair elevated her shoulders, lifting her breasts invitingly towards the ceiling, the way her blond hair spilled down the headrest. He stepped closer, pinning her tresses in place with his hips so that any move to turn her head would tug painfully at the roots... and, coincidentally or not, letting her feel the hard ridge in his jeans pressing to the top of her head.<br/><br/>“Poor thing,” he said, his hands drifting up to hold either side of her face, piercing her blue eyes with his gaze. His thumbs circled around her lips, pushing them together into a forced pout, stretching them open to reveal her white teeth and sharp exhalations. “You must be... aching for it by now. No wonder you're being such a little slut, lying there and letting me put my hands all... over... you...” His voice was low and seductive, mocking and inviting, a coil of forbidden smoke that worked its way into her senses as he reached down, dragging his calloused fingers over he throat and collarbone. Jon moved his hands to her breasts and palmed them, kneading them hard through the fabric of her top and bra, manhandling them with more force and less gentle reverence – though just as much enjoyment, that was obvious from the erection that ground against her skull – than she was used to.<br/><br/>Just as suddenly, his hands pulled away, and were resting on the back of the chair as he casually glanced at the clock. “Okay. That should do it. Good to go, Miss Tate.” His tone was cheerful and breezy, a dizzying contrast to the sinful growl before, but it dropped towards that register as he strolled away from the chair, fetching the canvas to cover the sex-rocker again, and glanced over his shoulder. “You'll be hearing from me.”