The Fall of Troy

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  I heard him curse underneath his breath, but I didn’t stop.

  “To care about my achievements. I told myself you were busy and that your work was just too important compared to my modest accomplishments, but then I saw you with Lilith and all my excuses washed away. The only thing I was left with was that it was me; I wasn’t good enough.”

  “Troian—”

  “It still hurts, Dad. You and my best friend… Lying to me… it still hurts. But I think what hurt most was to realize that the whole time, I’d been ignoring myself, too. I put what I thought you wanted above what I wanted for my life… before even the thoughts of wanting something different for my life. You hurt me… but I hurt me, too.”

  There were a few seconds of silence on the other end, highlighting my emotional heart as it thudded heavier and heavier in my chest.

  “I’m… not good at a lot of things, Troian,” he began. “Chemistry… drugs… interactions with cells… all that makes sense to me. But not emotions. They aren’t quantifiable. They aren’t predictable. I don’t… like things that aren’t predictable. I want you to know that I love you, Troy. I’m not good at it, but I do.” I heard him drag in a hoarse breath.

  Tears leaked down my face. I knew he loved me—even after everything I never doubted that. But it didn’t change the weight that was lifted off of my shoulders to hear those words.

  “And I’m proud of you. Even if I didn’t tell you as much as I should have. I’m proud of you. Not just for what you’ve done, I’m proud of who you are—the girl who always steps up, who always rises to the challenge. After the divorce, taking care of yourself, taking care of the house and of meals, and of me… Excelling in school and on exams… I saw it all, Troian. I saw how you met every challenge and conquered it. And I’m sorry I didn’t know how to share in your victories because all I saw was all the ways I’d failed you.”

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. It was as though every last broken piece of me clicked back into place hearing the truth that I’d come to realize. The truth a part of me had always known but had needed a battle to make me remember. The truth that Léo had fought to set free.

  I was a fighter. And I would always rise to the challenge.

  “I don’t… expect you to forgive me for Lilith. I should have said something… told you… But I didn’t know how to tell—explain to my own daughter that her best friend is the only other woman who makes feeling emotions… feeling love… worthwhile.”

  My breath caught. I knew what was coming and I braced for it—the anger, the rush of rage…

  “I’m sorry for how I’ve handled everything, Troian, but I’m not sorry for her. I will regret everything I’ve done except for that. I love Lilith and for the first time, I feel like I don’t have to be good at loving to be doing it right. If that means you can’t forgive me… if that means you take back your apology, I understand,” he said hoarsely.

  He loved her.

  I’d heard more emotion from my father’s voice in the past sixty seconds than I had in the past six years.

  “But I would never want to see you give up on the person you love because I—or someone else—doesn’t like or approve of your relationship. I would never wish you to do that and… I hope… someday you can feel the same for me.”

  It never came. I thought the hatred would come back, hearing how my dad not only slept with Lil but was in love with her. My cells vibrated, prepared to withstand the angry assault. But it never came.

  Relief cooled and comforted me—like the ocean on a hot day. I wasn’t angry. A smile tugged up my face. I. Wasn’t. Angry. The dull ache still remained but after all this time, I was faced with a truth that could have broken me… sent me back… but it didn’t.

  “I… I know, Dad” I said softly. “I-it’s okay.”

  His silence spoke volumes. We were okay.

  “I love you, Troian.”

  “Love you, too, Dad.”

  He cleared his throat, another sign of emotion that I’d never experience from him before. “I’d like to come see you. Come visit and talk to you… I miss you.”

  A few more trails slipped down my cheeks as I took a wavering breath. “I… I want that, but I can’t pretend I’m okay with that right now. Maybe we could just talk a little bit more before…”

  “Of course,” he said calmly, but I could hear the relief in his voice that things were moving forward between us, no matter how slowly. “Of course, we can talk.”

  My eyes caught sight of the clock at the end of the hall. “I… I have to go back to class and get my stuff. Maybe I can call you tomorrow?”

  “Anytime. You can call me anytime,” he returned decisively. “Tell your mom I said hello.”

  He never said things like that before—and if he did, I knew better than to believe he wouldn’t be too caught up in work to actually follow through. Whatever Lil was… whatever she’d done… she’d made him want more from life—from me. I wasn’t ready to forgive her, but I knew now that it would be possible.

  ‘But I would never want to see you give up on the person you love because I—or someone else—doesn’t like or approve of your relationship.’

  I knew that’s why this was all okay. I’d acknowledged his love and in an uninformed, non-descript sort of way, he’d acknowledged mine.

  I wouldn’t give Léo up, no matter what they said. No matter what he said.

  How was I going to do this? I wiped another tear from my face. I needed to cry. Not because I was sad. Or happy. Maybe I was both. And then maybe it was just because I was getting my period soon and that’s just how emotions rolled at this stage in the game.

  I was just down the stairs when the pressure got worse. My shoulders began to shake with tears that I was holding back.

  “Oomph!” I ran into a solid wall just around the corner. A solid, half-naked wall.

  Luke.

  “I’m—” We both began at the same time as I wobbled backward.

  “You okay?” he asked as he put his hands on my shoulder to steady me.

  “Yeah. I’m goo—”

  “Have you been crying?”

  My eyes flew to his. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. His face was so pretty even when he was concerned.

  And then I was yanked against him once more as he gave me a hug. Maybe he did care. Maybe he was just trying to get a date with me. Unfortunately, rational Troian was temporarily out-to-lunch, and emotional Troian had taken her place.

  Emotional Troian recognized a hug and huge cracks weakened my dam.

  “I-I’m r-really,” I sobbed against him. “O-Okay.”

  “Yeah, this is what ‘okay’ looks like.” He chuckled against me.

  I let out a watery laugh, putting my hands on his chest about to disentangle myself from the embrace. I needed to find Léo. I needed…

  “Miss Milanovic.”

  I jumped back from Luke, a small cry popping from my lips in surprise as I saw Léo standing just behind the model with the epitome of rage scrawled into his features.

  “In my office.”

  My mouth parted even though there was no protest coming. He held my bag… my stuff… at his side.

  “Goodnight,” he practically snarled at Luke as he stepped in front of the other man, effectively blocking me from him.

  Gulping, my head jerked in a slight nod to let Luke know I was okay before I turned. My footsteps back to Léo’s office were drowned out by the heavy pounding of my heart.

  He was angry.

  I wasn’t ready to deal with anger right now.

  The door slammed behind us. If there was anyone left in this building, they were on their way up here now after that.

  I didn’t have time to turn before I was yanked back against him, his mouth in my ear.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he growled. “All day. All night. Was this what your little show was for, ma petite?”

  I shook my head. “W-what show?”

  “The anger at your grade. The phone call yo
u tried to hide.” His body locked up. “Letting him hold you.”

  “N-no!” I exclaimed. He wouldn’t let me turn around. I wanted to look at him. I wanted him to see the truth.

  “Do you like doing this to me?” He jammed the ridge in his pants against my ass. “You must. You must like pushing me to the brink of insanity.”

  My body went crazy. Anger. Relief. Shock. Lust. They all warred inside my skin. But lust… Léo… he always won out.

  “I j-just want you to admit that you can’t just s-stop this… stop us.”

  He let out a tortured groan behind me and my nipples hardened against my bra. My back arched instinctively, trying to find something to rub them against and ease the ache.

  “You’re like a cool drink of water for a man who is dying from dehydration,” he growled. His words licked right to my core, clenching and unclenching my muscles. “Only, I can’t stop swallowing. I can’t stop gulping you down mouthful after mouthful because it feels like I need you to live. Later, I’ll realize it was my desire that caused me to drown.”

  My breathing faltered. Every other emotion in my body was put on pause for this. For him.

  “What do you want, Troian?”

  I whimpered. “You, Léo. I need you. I want you to need me like I need you.”

  His hands slipped up my shirt. Yanking my bra down underneath my breasts, he filled his hands with my small tits. I let out a strangled cry as I arched into him. His fingers tugged and pinched my nipples, driving my battered mind crazy with need.

  “And how is that?” He squeezed and smashed my breasts together. This time, his hips began to roll his erection against my ass.

  I moaned, feeling one of his hands slide to the waist of my jeans. He cupped me through the denim. I was so hot. So wet. “Like nothing I could do is wrong if it means being with you. Like right and wrong don’t exist. Only you. Like only you exist.”

  His harsh laugh vibrated my ear. “Only me,” he repeated. “I’ll show you how wrong only I can be, ma petite. Is that what you want?”

  I felt his hand work my pants undone. “Yes,” I moaned, my head falling back onto his chest.

  “Tell me how much you want me,” he growled, hooking his hands on the waist of my jeans.

  “More than breath.”

  He yanked my pants and underwear down in one motion—not all the way off though. Instead, they trapped my legs together at just above my knees.

  “You want to pull me back into that sweet little cunt of yours? Stretch you until you can’t tell pleasure from pain?” His hand rubbed light circles on my lower stomach, like he had to move it to stop it from delving between my thighs.

  I let out a small cry as he pushed me forward onto his desk, my ass and pussy crudely on display for his possessive stare. I struggled to breathe evenly against the flat surface as the coolness of the wood soaked into the side of my face that was burning red.

  My body… my soul… was on display for him. Again.

  I tried to stand back up, but the firm hand on my lower back stopped me. “Yes…” I murmured wantonly, a tear leaking from my eyes. “I don’t care how wrong it is. I want all of you…”

  Silence. I couldn’t see him, the way he had me pinned to the desk. His palm branded my back as I heard the ragged drags of his breath. And I felt his stare on me… there… and again, blackness bloomed in my chest. He was going to send me away again.

  I gasped, feeling the barest touch against where my ass cheek met my thigh. And then he was next to me, leaning over my side to where my face was turned. Deep blue held me hostage.

  “You want wrong, ma petite?” he rasped softly, his lips dangerously close to mine as his hand continued to move gently up over my ass… onto my lower back… down toward my crack. “How is fucking you on my desk? On all the papers that remind me I’m taking advantage of a student? Is that wrong enough?”

  I gulped as my body clenched harder around nothing, desperate to have him inside me again.

  I shivered as his hand moved lower still.

  “Would it be wrong to fuck this tight little hole, too?” His finger swirled around between my ass cheeks. “Maybe next time.” The breath I’d been holding fogged the wood of the desk.

  “Mon Dieu, I want to see my cum drip from each and every one of your untouched holes, Troian. And that, ma cher, is still a clear wrong to me. For now.”

  My body jerked against the table as I let out a large gasp. I wanted it, too, but there were dangerous consequences to that. Then again there were always dangerous consequences to us.

  “Léo…”

  “I know. I know you want it. I’m watching how much you want it, ma petite. I’m watching your pussy weep at the thought of tasting my cum.”

  My breath exhaled on a strangled cry as he trailed one finger too torturously lightly down the length of my slit. It felt like a lick from the lion who was about to maul you—a gentle mockery of what was to come. My hands fisted on the desk. My nails dug into my palms because I had nothing to hold onto and all I knew was how much I needed him before my body exploded.

  “Did you know I’d never fucked a virgin before? Or a student for that matter…” he rasped. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something as beautiful as your bare pussy, sopping wet and stretched wide around me.”

  I didn’t have time to process his last words because he slammed into me. No warning. No working his way in. My legs were trapped together by my pants which made my core impossibly tight and harder to penetrate but he didn’t care. He wasn’t gentle. I felt every inch that peeled apart by the blunt head of his dick until it jammed up against my cervix.

  Wet and no longer a virgin didn’t seem to matter when it came to Léo. Anatomy didn’t seem to matter when it came to Léo. A sob escaped me as he pushed harder into me until I felt his balls against me.

  And then he froze. “Tell me this is wrong, ma petite. I’ll never be able to stop until you do.”

  I heard the torture in his voice. I heard how he wanted this to be too far—how he wanted this to be the thing that would spur me to keep away from him. I also heard the hard edge of need that underscored every syllable. My body did this to him… I did this to him.

  And even though my body tensed and revolted against the deep invasion, hot pain lingering in each of my cells, desire began to overtake it. This is where I wanted him—so deep inside of me that he didn’t know how to get out.

  “No,” I said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

  A small moan pushed out as he swelled even thicker inside of me.

  “Mon Dieu,” he whispered, his thumb brushing circles on my back. “Tu seras ma mort.”

  My God, you will be the death of me.

  I always knew the moment he broke for me. His hands tugged mine onto my back, crossing my wrists and caging them with his grip. The angle arched my back slightly and I felt the head of his cock rubbing against that spot all the way inside me that only he had the map to.

  “We’re not wrong, Léo…”

  His body went taut for a second before he pulled out and rammed back into me. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as the edge of the desk cut into my thighs with the force of his thrust. He hurt me. He tried to fuck the truth back down into my throat where it wasn’t a danger to us both anymore. My chest was flattened against the unforgiving wooden top. My arms twisted back behind me, locking me in place. This was going to be like the first time where my pussy was sore for days afterward—where no number of warm baths could soothe the muscles that had been abused. But none of that mattered. Nothing mattered as his hips slapped against my ass.

  I didn’t feel the discomfort now. I only felt him.

  He punished us both with the force of each thrust. But was it really punishment when it felt so good?

  My body quickly remembered to whom it belonged, stretching and gushing to accommodate him. I felt how slick with sweat he’d become as he used his lower body to pin me down and I wished I could see him. I wished I could se
e the struggle to hold onto his control; I wish I could watch him lose his grip on it. But I couldn’t—I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even bring myself to open my eyes because the pain… the pleasure… it hurt so good.

  Even though I couldn’t move, I felt like I was flying. The friction of him filling my body, the pressure as he pushed against that spot hidden all the way inside me, making it feel like he was moving inside my stomach. It was all too much.

  “I wanted it to be wrong… I tried to make it wrong.” His teeth were clenched together. I could hear the lust and loathing in his voice. “But then I see you… I touch you… and I can’t fucking remember why it’s wrong. I can’t fathom anything” —his dick shoved hard inside me—“that could ever” —another thrust and my body quaked with the need for release—“be wrong” —the pressure inside me was relentless. Twisted and demanding. I wasn’t going to survive—“about us.”

  “Léo…” I cried out. I felt my cheek slide against the wood where my tears must have collected. “I-I can’t…”

  “You can… You will because this is right.” He jammed his cock into me again, circling his hips so that the head touched on every wall of my pussy. I screamed with the wave of pleasure that consumed me. Now, I felt the tears as they streamed down my face onto the desk, soaking into my face and the wood.

  I knew he saw me breaking because I heard his growl… felt it rumble all the way down his body and into mine. And it fueled him. God, did it fuel him. Harder and faster he hammered into me and my body hummed like a livewire precariously ready to spark and explode.

  “You wanted this,” he rasped. “You wanted my cock even though I turned you away. Isn’t that right?”

  I don’t even know what noise I made to agree.

  “This is all I think about. In class. At the coffee shop. At my apartment. In my office. Awake. Asleep. I think about your swollen little cunt sucking on my cock. I think about how I’d break every rule—every person—who kept me away from you. From fucking you. Only you. All the time. It should feel wrong. It should. Je te déteste. I loathe you because it doesn’t.”