The silk chemise fell away with a whisper of static. Elena stood before the mirrored mahogany vanity in the dim candlelight, the faint silver gleam between her nostrils trembling with every shallow breath. In the chilled air of the suite, the sterling silver ring in her septum was ice-cold against her heated skin.

Behind her, Julian's reflection appeared in the glass. He didn't speak. He simply stepped close enough for the radiant heat of his chest to cast a shadow across her bare shoulder blades.

His fingers—large, warm, and deliberately slow—brushed up the nape of her neck before his thumb gently caught the curve of her silver septum jewelry. He gave it the slightest upward rotation. The sharp contrast between frigid sterling silver and the furnace heat of his fingertips pulled an involuntary whimper from deep inside her sternum.