My lack of vision made everything more intense: Rohan's cologne, the air conditioning humming over my skin, the scrape of the belt along the base of my spine.
Rohan ran a finger down the side of my neck and along my collarbone. I suppressed a gasp at the contact. He whipped the belt off me, using it to stroke me everywhere: toes, hands, stomach, legs, breasts - mapping my body.
Goosebumps trailed in its wake.
The leather creaked and then the buckle clattered against something. "Next time, Harley, bring leather, not this cheap shit that falls apart."
"You seem pretty sure there's gonna be a next time."
He gave a dark laugh that shivered through me. "I'm fairly confident."
My nipples hardened.