Page 61 of Dr. Lillian Harrington
Without another word, Rebecca leaned in, capturing Lillian’s lips in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with all the things they hadn’t been able to say. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an apology, a promise, and a declaration of love all wrapped into one. Lillian responded instantly, her arms tightening around Rebecca’s neck, pulling her impossibly closer as the kiss deepened.
The world outside ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—this feeling, this connection between them that had been reignited with so much more than just desire. It was love, pure and raw, and it surged through Lillian like fire.
Rebecca’s hands moved to Lillian’s waist, sliding up the curve of her back, her touch gentle but filled with an urgency that mirrored the beating of Lillian’s heart. They broke the kiss for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads still touching as their eyes locked.
"I need you," Rebecca whispered, her voice laced with emotion.
"I’m here," Lillian whispered back, her hand sliding down to interlace with Rebecca’s. "I’m not going anywhere."
With that, Rebecca led Lillian toward the bedroom, their fingers still entwined, their steps slow but purposeful. The weight of everything they had been through was still there, but now it felt like something they could carry together.
Once inside, Lillian pulled Rebecca closer again, pressing their bodies flush against each other as she kissed her deeply.This time, the kiss was more urgent, more passionate, as if the weeks of longing had all built up to this moment. Rebecca’s hands were in Lillian’s hair, tugging gently, while Lillian’s fingers traced the lines of Rebecca’s body, memorizing the feel of her skin.
They moved together, slowly but with intent, not skimming the surface this time but sinking, letting the heat gather and thicken until it felt like honey over skin, every touch and every kiss a deliberate reaffirmation of what they had fought to rebuild and what they were done denying; Lillian tilted her head to give Rebecca her throat and felt the precise, hungry slide of an open mouth seal there, the brief drag of teeth, the soft, claiming pressure of a tongue that soothed at once, and then lower—down the long line of her neck to the delicate hollow at the base where pulse met breath—each kiss placed like a marker that said this is mine to take care of. Rebecca’s hands were everywhere, mapping and memorising, thumbs smoothing over the wings of Lillian’s shoulders, palms cupping the weight of her breasts with a reverence that did not dull desire but sharpened it, her fingers learning the give of soft flesh and the stiffening peak beneath her mouth as she drew one nipple into the heat of her lips and suckled until Lillian made a sound she could not swallow.
“I love you,” Rebecca said against her skin, the words so close Lillian felt them rather than heard them, a low vibration that travelled through her sternum and settled lower; she didn’t stop touching to say it, didn’t retreat into caution, only closed her teeth lightly around Lillian’s nipple and then soothed with her tongue as her hand slid over Lillian’s stomach and lower still.
“I love you too, Rebecca,” Lillian answered, breathless but certain, the word always breaking in her mouth because Rebecca’s fingers had found the waistband of her panties andslipped beneath, knuckles grazing hot skin, the heel of her hand pressing down with the kind of patience that begged for more.
They tumbled onto the bed and didn’t bother with the sheet yet; there was too much heat to be polite. Rebecca nudged Lillian up the mattress with a steadying hand at her hip, then came over her on forearms so Lillian felt weight without being crushed, felt held without being trapped, and kissed her deep and slow until the last of the day’s noise fell away. Lillian arched into her and Rebecca answered by running her palm down the inside of Lillian’s thigh, coaxing her to open, to soften, to let go; when Lillian did, when her knees fell wider of their own accord, Rebecca breathed a soft, frayed curse that tasted like gratitude and slid her hand between her legs.
There was no pretence now. The first touch was not a tease; it was a confirmation. Rebecca parted Lillian with two gentle fingers and found her slick, thumb circling where she most needed it, pressure light at first, then firmer, testing and learning, listening to the way Lillian’s breath climbed and broke. Lillian’s hands flew to Rebecca’s shoulders for anchor; when Rebecca pressed her mouth to Lillian’s again, Lillian moaned into her and Rebecca swallowed the sound like it was sustenance, like it was all she’d wanted for months.
“Please,” Lillian whispered, not sure whether she was asking for speed or depth or mercy, only sure that she wanted whatever Rebecca was about to give her.
“I know,” Rebecca murmured, and slid two fingers inside.
Lillian’s body took her with a wet, helpless clutch that made Rebecca’s breath hitch; she stilled for one long, steadying heartbeat, and then moved—slow at first, a careful stroke that let Lillian feel every inch, then deeper, a curl of her fingers that found the place that made Lillian gasp and clutch at the sheet with one fist while the other dragged down Rebecca’s back, nails scoring lightly. Rebecca set a rhythm that madethinking irrelevant: in and curl, out and circle, her thumb never abandoning Lillian’s clit, drawing patient, insistent patterns that gathered sensation the way a tide gathers sea, the room narrowing to the sound of wet and breath and the small, wrecked sounds Lillian couldn’t help giving away.
“Eyes on me,” Rebecca said, and Lillian dragged hers open and met the dark, intent focus above her—in it hunger, yes, but also a tenderness so fierce it felt like devotion—and held that gaze as pleasure climbed into something bright and shaking. Rebecca kissed the corner of her mouth, then the hinge of her jaw, then the small pulse under her ear, and all the while her hand worked with unshowy skill, changing angle by a breath, pressure by a fraction, never losing the thread of Lillian’s body as it tightened and begged and opened.
It hit hard and clean, not a scatter of sparks but a surge, a wave that took her whole; Lillian cried out, thighs clamping and then pushing wider as Rebecca kept her exactly there, thumb firm and fingers deep, riding the tremor with her, guiding it from unbearable to exquisite and back again until the shudders slowed and Lillian went soft and heavy under her. Rebecca didn’t let go immediately; she gentled instead, easing her hand into slow, soothing passes over her sweet pussy that made aftershocks flutter low and sweet, kissing Lillian through them, whispering nonsense and love together until the edge blurred and Lillian could breathe.
“Still with me?” Rebecca asked softly, and Lillian nodded, then laughed once, that broken-happy sound that only came when a body had been wrung out and loved back into itself.
“Good,” Rebecca said, and kissed her forehead like a blessing. “Now my turn.”
She shifted then, rolling to her side and drawing Lillian with her, their legs tangling, the sheet finally giving way beneath them; Lillian slid her hand down the smooth, strong line ofRebecca’s back and lower, cupping the curve of her, and then further between her thighs. Rebecca was already wet, slick and hot and wanting, and the knowledge of it—the proof of it—made Lillian bold. She mirrored what Rebecca had given her: fingers parting, palm pressing, thumb finding rhythm, mouth searching and finding the soft gasp against her own, learning the stutter in Rebecca’s breath that meant there and the static crackle under her skin that meant again.
Rebecca didn’t hold on to composure; she let it go for her, let her head fall back into the pillow as Lillian worked her clit, one hand fisted in the sheet, the tendons in her forearm standing out as she fought the impulse to grab and direct. “Just—yes, there—don’t stop,” she said, and Lillian didn’t, not when Rebecca’s hips rolled into her hand, not when her thighs shook, not when she turned her face and bit back a moan that still broke free and made Lillian smile against her cheek. When Lillian slid two fingers inside and curled, Rebecca swore softly, the sound so undone it was almost a prayer; Lillian pressed her mouth to Rebecca’s throat and felt the groan rumble through her as she tightened around Lillian’s hand, the rhythm breaking, the beautiful surrender arriving fast and hard.
“Let go,” Lillian whispered, and Rebecca did, tumbling over the edge with a low, raw sound that seemed to empty her and fill the room, her body clenching and fluttering around Lillian’s fingers, pleasure lighting every nerve until she went loose and boneless, blinking up at the ceiling like she’d forgotten language for a moment and didn’t miss it.
They lay tangled, sweat cooling, the city a dim pulse beyond the glass, and then turned back into each other because distance felt absurd now. Lillian pressed slow kisses to Rebecca’s mouth and cheek and the damp hair at her temple, and Rebecca gathered her closer by degrees, one palm smoothing down Lillian’s spine in long, calming strokes, the other finding herhand and lacing their fingers together, the press of knuckles a small, steady anchor.
The quiet that followed wasn’t empty; it was full of everything they hadn’t had to say to make this true. The room smelled of skin and heat and something faintly floral from the crushed pillowcase; the sheet was a careless knot at their shins; the lamp threw a warm, forgiving light across the curve of Rebecca’s shoulder and the hollow of Lillian’s hip where a slick shine still caught. Lillian watched their chests rise and fall together, felt the hum of Rebecca’s heartbeat under her palm, and thought, with clean certainty that did not frighten her, that she had never been more known or more cherished than in this bed, in this body, under these hands that had finally stopped holding back and started to give.
As the night deepened, they lay together in silence, their bodies wrapped around each other, the warmth of their love keeping them close. Lillian rested her head on Rebecca’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, feeling more at peace than she had in months.
"This feels right," Lillian whispered, her voice soft but filled with certainty. "We feel right."
Rebecca kissed the top of Lillian’s head, her arms tightening around her. "We are," she said quietly. "And we’re going to make this work. No more running. No more walls."
Lillian smiled, her heart swelling with love as she pressed a kiss to Rebecca’s chest. "No more walls," she agreed, her voice filled with hope.
They drifted off to sleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, their love finally free of the barriers that had once held them back.
And for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly as it should be.
