‘One day, Shay lets me steer the Morrigan. It’s easier than I thought. “Not bad. But a good sailor should be immune to distractions,” he says, suddenly embracing me from behind and kissing my neck, while his hand makes its way down my pants and starts rubbing my clit. And instead of steering, I concentrate on staying silent so the crew won’t notice what’s going on. And when I feel his erection through his pants, I get so distracted that I crash into an iceberg. Bless the Morrigan’s ice ram…’

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