Julian's hands were steady, but the heat radiating from his palms told a different story. He drew her flush against him, the cool air of the room vanishing the moment their skin met. Elena let out a soft, shaky exhale, her fingers tangling in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down until their lips were a fraction apart.
"You've been playing this game all evening," he whispered against her mouth, his breath warm and teasing. "Now the rules change."
He lifted her effortlessly, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the oversized leather chair by the window. The city lights of Manhattan blurred into a bokeh of gold and blue behind them, a silent witness to the tension finally snapping.
As he sat, keeping her draped across his lap, his kisses moved from her lips to the sensitive curve of her shoulder, sparking a trail of fire in their wake. Elena leaned her head back, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the sensation of his hands exploring the small of her back. Every touch was a claim, every breath a promise that the night had only just begun.