Fire scored her back as Emilia’s nails dug in. Her own desire peaked and shook her, but she didn’t break her rhythm. Not yet, she told herself, fighting through dizzying shockwaves of pleasure. Not with Emilia so close. Emilia was soft beneath her, and she whimpered into Morgan’s ear as Morgan picked up her pace, then slowed, loving the widening of Emilia’s eyes as she begged Morgan with them not to stop.

“Fuck you, Morgan Donovan,” Emilia said when Morgan slowed again.

Morgan did not bother pointing out that technically speaking she was, and came to a halt with her hips pressed hard against Emilia. Emilia’s entire body quivered.

“What are you doing?” Her voice broke with frustration and Morgan kissed her gently, aware that gentleness was the last thing Emilia wanted right now, but unable to resist her flushed and parted lips.

“Roll over,” she said.

Emilia’s answering smile was slow and heavy. Morgan pulled out with her pulse hammering in her throat. She wasn’t sure why she’d given the command, only that it had felt right in that moment, right in a way that would have startled her if she had been capable of self-analysis. Emilia turned and looked at Morgan over her shoulder as she obeyed. The trust and certainty in that look, paired with the smolder, twisted around her heart. She stroked Emilia with her hand and felt the heat of her. Briefly, she contemplated ditching the strap-on so she could feel Emilia come around her hand again, but there was a need in the way Emilia’s body tilted toward her that she could no more deny than she could cease to breath of her own free will. She paused long enough to taste her before sliding the shaft back inside her.

“God, yes,” Emilia said. Morgan took hold of her hips and felt the curve of her ass against her as she thrust. She watched the muscles in Emilia’s back shift as she clutched the sheets and marveled at the strength of her body. The darkness on the boat and the necessity of cover had concealed the steel beneath her curves. Here, in the fading evening light, she saw the raw power of Emilia Russo laid bare against the pale blue of her sheets.

“Harder,” Emilia begged.

Morgan obeyed.

Emilia slammed her own hips into Morgan, forcing her to pick up her pace. Emilia’s hair cascaded over her shoulders as she flung her head back. Had she ever seen anything this beautiful? She leaned forward to hold her closer, taking her breast in her hand and rocking with her.

“Morgan.” Emilia’s voice went high. “Morgan, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Morgan said into her ear.

“Oh my god. Morgan. Morgan—” Her last word broke as she came, shuddering, in Morgan’s arms.