“Oh my god…” Lillian thought her legs might give way beneath her. Her whole body began to shake. She felt like she couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please,” she murmured.
She felt Rebecca’s mouth clash against her own lips suddenly and both at the same time, Rebecca’s tongue pressed inside her mouth and her fingers pressed deep inside her pussy.
Lillian moaned loudly around Rebecca’s tongue as she felt her fingers, her long graceful lovely fingers begin to fuck her.
She thought she might explode there and then. She felt so close to orgasm already and Rebecca had barely touched her.
She felt Rebecca’s tongue pressing further into her mouth, tangling with her own. Then she felt Rebecca sucking on Lillian’s own tongue, pulling it deep into her mouth as her fingers fucked Lillian. In and out, thrusting deep. Lillian felt them banging against her G spot deliciously and she felt Rebecca’s thumb sliding against her clitoris.
Pleasure began to build in a knot deep inside her that threatened to unravel at any time.
Rebecca released her tongue and her lips moved to Lillian’s neck, to her ear, sucking her earlobe before her lips moved up slightly.
“Come for me, baby.” Rebecca’s whisper was loud in Lillian’s ear.
Lillian felt tremors all through her body and suddenly her climax tearing through her from the depths of her being as though it might tear her apart completely.
She heard the loud and primal cry of an animal, before realising that it was her own cry. She came and came and came as though Rebecca’s fingers were both tearing her apart and putting her back together all at once.
She lost herself in the moment as she felt Rebecca’s fingers ease out of her and her hand finding its way back out of the waistband of her scrubs.
Rebecca eased back by a fraction, foreheads touching, both of them breathing hard, the thin cotton cap at Lillian’s crownaskew from Rebecca’s fingers. For a suspended beat they just rested there, sharing air, eyes closed.
“This can’t happen again,” Rebecca said, and the words landed with the weight of a promise she hated keeping. Her voice was tight, threaded with effort, as if saying it cost something she didn’t have to spare.
“I know,” Lillian whispered, though even as the syllables left her she felt the truth resist, stubborn and shining in her chest. She didn’t want to stop. Not now. Not later. The admission trembled behind her ribs like a secret trying to be born.
Rebecca’s hand slid from Lillian’s hair to her shoulders, a slow, steadying pass that felt like apology and care at once. She pressed one last, gentler kiss to the corner of Lillian’s mouth—nothing that could be misread if someone walked in, everything that could be remembered if no one ever did—and stepped back half a pace, enough space for sense to return, not enough for the wanting to cool.
The room seemed louder again—the distant clatter of a trolley, a voice echoing from the corridor, the clock over the sink insistently marking time. Lillian drew a breath, squared herself against the counter, and lifted her chin. “I know,” she said again, steadier now. But the look they shared before Rebecca turned away told a different story, one neither of them would put into words here: that what had just happened wasn’t a mistake to erase, it was a line crossed carefully—and that, for better or worse, neither of them was going back.
Later that evening, after the heat of the moment had cooled and the reality of what had just happened began to settle in, Lillian found herself at her family’s home for their usual Sundaydinner. The large, elegant dining room felt suffocating as she sat with her sisters, their voices filling the air with conversation that barely touched her. She felt raw and exposed, the memory of Rebecca’s hands on her still fresh, as if the heat of it hadn’t fully faded from her skin.
Catherine, seated at the head of the table as usual, was in the middle of a discussion about a groundbreaking new procedure she had performed earlier that week. Her voice was sharp, as it often was when discussing anything to do with surgery. “The team was fine, but they needed constant direction. Honestly, I don’t know how anyone manages to get through these procedures without my intervention.”
Lillian picked at her food, half-listening as Catherine continued her monologue.
Roz, the middle sister, leaned back in her chair with an amused smirk. “God, Cat, not everyone is a surgical prodigy. Maybe if you let them breathe for two seconds, they’d figure it out.”
Catherine shot her a withering look. “You don’t ‘breathe’ in the middle of a surgery, Roz. You execute. You save lives.”
Roz rolled her eyes but didn’t press the issue further. She caught Lillian’s eye from across the table and raised an eyebrow. “What about you, Lil? How’s life in the OR as the newest Harrington prodigy?”
Lillian froze, her fork hovering over her plate. “It’s…fine,” she said quickly, trying to keep her voice even. “Just getting used to everything.”
Catherine cut in before Roz could respond. “You need to be more than fine, Lillian. This isn’t a place where you can coast by on your last name.”
The words stung more than Lillian wanted to admit. She knew Catherine didn’t mean to be cruel, but the pressure behindher words felt unbearable. Especially now. Especially after what had just happened.
Olivia, the youngest of her older sisters, offered a soft smile from her place at the table. “You’ll find your footing, Lils. It takes time. Don’t let Cat scare you.”
Catherine huffed. “I’m not trying to scare her. I’m trying to prepare her.”
Lillian forced a smile, though inside she felt like she was drowning. “I know, Catherine.”
But the truth was, she didn’t know. Not really. The lines between what was expected of her and what she wanted were starting to blur, and she wasn’t sure how long she could keep everything under control.
