I turned toward her just enough for the fire to illuminate me fully—cock already thick and rigid, jutting upward in shameless salute, the head flushed dark and glistening faintly in the glow.
"I'm not getting bitten there," I growled, voice rough with mock urgency and very real lust. "Who knows what kind of ants these are? They could be fucking poisonous for all I know."
Her protest died on her lips.
Mira's wide hazel eyes dropped—locked—on my erection. For several pounding heartbeats, she simply stared, lips parted, breath coming in shallow, uneven sips.
The flush that had started on her cheeks now spilled down her throat and across the tops of her breasts, turning her skin a dusky rose. Her arms, still crossed protectively over her chest, loosened slightly; one hand drifted unconsciously downward until her fingertips brushed the waistband of her pants, trembling.
