“Fuck, Emilia,” she said into the wind. She eased the throttle forward, and the boat picked up speed. Emilia laughed in her ear.

She groaned when Emilia’s hands paused again at her belt. Half of her wanted to stop her, wanted to turn regardless of the speeding boat and pull Emilia to the deck. The more assertive half stood rigid, her breath coming in gasps as Emilia eased her belt buckle open, followed by the top button of her jeans, and then slid back up her stomach and under the wire of her bra.

If we crash before she touches me, I’ll never rest in peace.

Emilia’s lips closed over her ear as her palms cupped Morgan’s breasts. Her thumbs brushed over her nipples with excruciating slowness. Morgan saw the distant lights of the bridge and prayed no other boats were around.

Keeping one hand on Morgan’s left breast, Emilia’s right hand drew a line down Morgan’s stomach to the open front of her pants and toyed with the waistband of her briefs. She took one hand off the wheel and reached behind her to grab hold of any part of Emilia she could reach. The hem of Emilia’s dress met her fingers, and she slid her hand underneath just as Emilia eased one finger beneath the waistband of her briefs and over the sensitive skin below. She gripped Emilia’s thigh to keep herself from falling.

“Please,” she begged.

Emilia’s fingers tightened on Morgan’s nipple as she trailed her other hand over Morgan’s aching clit. The shudder of pleasure made the water briefly vanish behind her closed eyes, but she forced herself to pay attention to the ocean and not to the insistent, mirroring circles Emilia traced over her nipple and center.

Sheer willpower kept her climax at bay. Emilia seemed to sense this as they passed beneath the bridge and up the river, until at last they entered the no wake zone of Seal Cove and she stroked lower, teasing Morgan’s opening with every dip of her fingers.

“Wait,” Morgan said. “I can’t moor us if—oh fuck, Emilia.” Her hips bucked as Emilia’s first two fingers curled inside her, urging her closer, each stroke temporarily blinding her. Emilia bit the skin below Morgan’s jaw and increased her tempo. Still half-blind, Morgan held on to the steering wheel as her knees gave out, and the only other thing keeping her upright was Emilia’s hand. She managed to avoid collision with other watercraft by instinct alone until, finally, they drew even with the mooring. Emilia removed her hand to catch the line, leaving Morgan shaking against the wheel.