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“You must be joking,” Frollo said dryly. 

 

Esmeralda glowered at him, her nose wrinkling, making her anger seem endearing and not the least bit intimidating. She had her fists on her hips, and Frollo’s gaze kept sliding down to her ample chest that was spilling over the top of her dress before he would catch himself, dragging it back to meet brilliant, emerald eyes. 

 

“You heard me,” she said sternly. “Protect my people, and you can have me. For one night.”

 

A guard to his left snorted in amusement. Frollo leaned back, assessing her. She really was serious. “I hope you understand, my dear, that the gypsies' current predicament has nothing to do with me. The crown decided that any gypsy caught in Paris would be arrested under penalty of death. That was the king, not I.” That wasn’t entirely true, of course. He had made his case to the king, and in the interim finagled his way out of a death sentence for burning down Paris. The gypsies were the main cause of crime in the city, after all, and it was more sensible to keep Frollo in charge. 

 

Her eyes held fury, but her smirk was mischievous, even wicked. Frollo shivered. From the moment she had stepped into the room he became half hard under his robes, and now between her proposal and flirtations he was almost fully erect. He shifted in his seat, hoping his shame remained hidden. 

 

“Still, you’re the minster, aren’t you? You have the power to end this.”

 

Frollo drummed fingers on the arm of his ornate wooden chair, feigning boredom. The room was grande, arched windows casting light on motes of dust, a crimson carpet from doorway to chair, masterful paintings with figures directing imperious expressions on both Frollo and the gypsy. It was certainly fit for a court. Not that Frollo cared much for grandiosity. 

 

Frollo cleared his throat, and motioned to the two guards. “You may leave.”

 

Their casual smirks morphed into outright confusion. “But Master Frollo!” one of them cried.

 

“Leave at once!” he snarled, stabbing his finger to the exit. They slinked out of the room, staring at the gypsy, who was watching them leave with a satisfied smile.

 

Frollo stood and circled her slowly. Excitement swirled in his chest, but he hid that under an icy glower. Was there any doubt he would say yes? Still…  “Now that we’re alone. I demand more than just one night.” He sniffed, lifting his chin. “I want a month. And you must allow me to do whatever I wish.” 

 

Esmeralda raised an eyebrow in obvious suspicion. “Anything you wish? What did you have in mind?”

 

Frollo chuckled. “Does it matter? You’re offering your body to me to do with what I please. And what you request of me in return is not a minor offence, gypsy. You want me to undermine the king’s will.” 

 

Her lips twisted, eyes darting around the room, and Frollo fought the urge to kiss it away. Patience, he reasoned with himself. Still, a part of him felt like a wolf about to pounce on a hare ready to flee. She came to him. He just needed to steer her into the trap. 

 

“There are families here. People who have lived in Paris their whole lives, who can’t even imagine leaving...”

 

Frollo rolled his eyes. “Save me the pity story. They’ve been offered repeated and ample warning. At this point, their actions are nothing more than willful disobedience.”

 

Her sooty eyes locked with his. Esmeralda’s expression was fierce, but he caught the way her throat worked. She was hiding her nerves well. 

 

“That...is why I’m offering this. You...you might have done terrible things. But you’ve never broken a promise that I know of. So…” She pointed to the cross around his neck. “I want to swear to God that you’ll do whatever you can to protect the gypsies from harm if I agree to do this.”

 

Silence; the air was thick with tension. He observed her with hooded eyes. If only she knew. What this gypsy asked of him amounted to treason, but he would do it in a heartbeat if he could have her. His skin burned. He would do anything to have her. Frollo had done his best to bury his obsession after the consequences of that fateful night, but now that she was before him, actually offering herself to him...his cock strained against his stomach, leaking, and he was grateful his desperation was hidden under layers of clothing. 

 

“One month,” he said in his most authoritative voice.  

 

Esmeralda studied him. “Two nights.” 

 

“Three weeks.”

 

“Two nights, and no more!”

 

Frollo growled in frustration. “Three full days. No more or less. And you must let me do anything I please.”

 

Esmeralda hesitated, but then nodded. “Deal.” She held out her hand. 

 

Frollo took it, but then tugged her close. Esmeralda yelped. He pressed their bodies together, felt the swell of her breasts against his chest. Her heartbeat was fast, the speed of a hunted hare.

 

“You must promise!”

 

“Yes,” Frollo murmured, dipping his nose to her throat, breathed deeply. She smelled like strawberries and a delicious musk. His mouth watered. “I swear to you, Esmeralda, that if you do whatever I want for three days, I’ll make sure your people are left alone.”

 

She relaxed in his arms, but only a little. “Th...thank you. Judge Frollo.”

 

He couldn’t bear waiting any more. One hand carded through thick, raven black hair, and he pulled her into a kiss. Frollo swallowed a cry from her, sucking on her lower lip, nipping it gently. He plundered her mouth for several minutes, exploring it thoroughly, feeling that fire burgeoning, burning so bright he could barely think.

 

He couldn’t hold back. He had obsessed, begged and reasoned with God, then buried this feeling for months, and now she gave herself freely! 

 

Frollo pressed forward, backing her up until she collapsed into the chair. Her hair was disheveled, her lips parted. “Frollo, what are you?--”

 

He shushed her. “The only words I want coming out of your mouth until I come is my name. Understood?”

 

“But I—”

 

“Remember your promise.” He knelt before her. His hands crept up her dress, gliding over the skin of her legs, and a spark of arousal shot through him, settling in his groin. “You told me you would do whatever I wanted for three days. If you break that, it would null our agreement.”

 

She observed him with wide eyes that he could not read, before she broke eye contact. “Yes. I...won’t say anything.”

 

“And keep your hands on the armrests. Don’t move them for any reason.” 

 

She did as she was told, and Frollo allowed himself an indulgent smirk. Esmeralda winced. 

 

Wasting no time, he ripped open her top, ignoring her indignant cry, and palmed her huge breasts in his hands. He sucked and bit at the tan skin, lasciviously exploring both sides with equal attention. His tongue swirled around a nipple, palm groping her other breast. Esmeralda cried out, in shock or delight Frollo wasn’t sure. 

 

Hiking up her dress, he shifted down, tongue circling her belly button, lower to her…

 

“No, wait!”

 

Frollo paused to glare up at her. “What did I tell you? Defy me again, and our deal is over,” he lied smoothly. He knew there was no way he would let her go now that he had her, but he wanted her to submit. “Do not speak.”

 

Esmeralda was bright red, and she nodded. Was that a blush?

 

Ignoring her reaction, he dragged his tongue over her slit, then parting her folds and sucking there. He was inexperienced, but knew that he wanted to devour Esmeralda. He sucked, licked, laved his tongue roughly, until she was dripping wet. Noises spilled out of her mouth, gentle at first, then growing in power until they echoed off the high chambered walls. 

 

“Frollo!” she gasped, squirming under his ministrations. He glanced up in shock. Her fingers were digging into the armrests, her eyes squeezed shut in a grimace of mock pain. 

 

Once again, he couldn’t wait. She made him come undone, this sorceress. 

 

He flipped Esmeralda over in the chair; she lifted her upper body, presumably to look back, but he easily pressed her back down. She was on her knees, and he lifted her dress over the curve of her ass. He fumbled to pull out his cock, positioning it at her wet slit, pressing in. Sinking inch by inch into her hot, tight flesh. His cock wrapped in indescribable pleasure.

 

Frollo groaned. The feeling was unlike anything he’d experienced before. This must be what heaven feels like . Putting his cock into Esmeralda’s tight little cunt. She whined and tried to press up again, but the angle made it easy to push her back into submission. He bottomed out, felt her walls pulse around him at the invasion, squeezing him. The base of his spine sparked with pleasure, and he stilled so that he didn’t come in a rush. 

 

Their panting filled the room. Frollo intermittently groaned. He wasn’t even moving yet and the sensation was almost too intense. Esmeralda breathed heavily, her fingers digging into the sides of the chair. 

 

Then, he fucked her. Slowly at first, moving in and out only an inch, then faster, clutching the globes of her ass for leverage. The squelch of his cock fucking her sopping cunt filled the room. The almost-painful tightness began to loosen, and he was able to maintain a steady, fast rhythm. 

 

“You’re mine!” he growled savagely, “mine, Esmeralda!” He didn’t care that it would only be for three days. He would use her thoroughly, take his fill of her. She made small noses at every punctuation of his hips. That felt like acceptance. His balls tightened, he moaned long and deep and stilled, hot cum streaking inside her and, Frollo hoped, filling her womb. His hand came around, massaging the soft skin there of her lower belly. 

 

He let out a shaky breath, backed up slowly and slipped out of her. And blinked at the blood that coated his cock. 

 

“You were a virgin?” And why should he be surprised? Not all gypsy women were promiscuous. Still, the way she had offered herself up like a whore had caused Frollo to make assumptions that were clearly false. Possessive pleasure courses through him, and his hand wrapped around the back of her neck. He forced his hand to relax, to be gentle.

 

She didn’t respond, and Frollo eventually realized why. He cleared his throat. “You may speak.”

 

“I was,” she whispered. “But...I knew how much you wanted me before. I thought if I...that you could help my people…” 

 

“Clever witch,” Frollo admitted with a small amount of admiration. “Yes, that is true. But your virginity was valuable. That could have helped you marry a wealthy man or noble.” Certainly, with her beauty that was achievable, despite her poverty and gypsy roots. 

 

“I didn’t care about that…”

 

He caught himself before he replied, maybe you should have. That didn’t matter now. Why should he argue with her choices when they ultimately benefited him?

 

Frollo’s gaze wandered over her prone form, black hair and dripping cunt, on her knees thrown over his chair. He wanted to possess her. Control her. Protect her. 

 

“This will be a magnificent three days,” Frollo said huskily, hand stroking down her hip, and lower. Her flesh trembled under his touch, and he felt goosebumps. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll make sure you enjoy it, too.”