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He doesn’t feel any satisfaction in having captured all the Gypsies, and burning their sanctuary, the Court of Miracles, to the ground. He should be happy, ecstatic that he’s going to be ridding Paris, his beautiful city, of the vermin. But there’s still an itch under his skin. He won’t be completely absolved until he kills her for he’s certain she won’t choose him. She’s willfully stubborn that way, and would rather burn for her witchcraft.
He separates her from the rest of them, but still binds her hands, and has the guards leave them alone in the Palace of Justice. He’s not going to give her a chance to repent, to be saved because it won’t matter which way she chooses because tonight, right now, she’s only here for him, here on this earth to tempt him, and if she has to burn for her sins, he might as well try to get her out of his system. He has been celibate for so long that he knows with certainty that if he only has this one night to take her, he’ll feel better about the kind of reactions and emotions she stirs up in him. He is, after all, only a man. And she is too much of a temptress just for one man, one made of flesh and bone and blood. He has resisted for as long as he could.
He inches closer, and her eyes widen in fear at the look of lust on his face. But there's nowhere she can go; she tugs at her binds ineffectually. Methodically, he ties a piece of cloth around her mouth to silence her screams.
He tears off her dress, and takes her breast in his mouth, sucking at the nipple. His teeth are sharp and she squirms under his attention. He gives one final sharp tug on the nipple, before he moves on to the other one. He pushes her down on the cold stone floor, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating smell as his nose buries itself in the brown, coarse hairs running along the top of Esmeralda’s lean stomach to the opening of her vagina. His tongue enters her, and it’s enough to send a sharp pulse of desire straight to his groin. He laps at the folds, and he finds a wetness there that he licks with his tongue.
His tongue leaves a strip of wetness to her thigh, and he bites her there as well before taking off his own robes and relieving his hard dick. He palms it for a moment, enjoying the stark contrast of his pale skin against her darker tones.
Frollo pushes in, hard and fast and possessively. The Palace of Justice is silent except for his grunts, the skin-to-skin contact of his penis pushing in and out of Esmeralda, and Esmeralda’s silent, trembling sobs under him. He tries to kiss her but Esmeralda turns her head, his mouth glancing off her cheek; he chuckles, burying a free hand in her hair. He noses her neck, biting into the soft flesh.
Frollo comes with a cry inside Esmeralda, and doesn’t immediately pull out. He lies down on top of her, knows he’s heavy and that he might be crushing her, but he looks at her red, tear-stained eyes. “I’m sorry for this,” he says, Esmeralda’s eyes automatically narrowing, “but you are going to die tomorrow, and it’d be a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity presented to me. It’s your last night on earth, after all.”
He gives her a lecherous smirk before he takes his penis out of her, and with a hard hand around her waist, turns her onto her stomach.
“It’s not over yet, my darling,” he says, before he smacks her butt, again and again and again until redness and a faint impression of his hand starts appearing. He kisses her butt in appeasement of the harshness of his hand before he drives his tongue into her hole and licks. By the time he comes up for air, he’s panting in desire and ready for round two. He takes his half-hard penis and drives it into her, bucking against her. His bony hands touch her back, before they wrap around her lovely neck and he squeezes in sync with his hard thrusts.
This time, he pulls out before he comes, intent on squirting all his semen on her backside, lapping it up before he kisses her backside one final time. He’s had his fill, and he can let her die without the constant aching for her touch.
Frollo dresses quickly, and calls for the guards. If they’re surprised to see Esmeralda, bare and trembling on the cold floor, they don’t show it. They try to cover her as best as they can with her torn dress when they pick her up off the floor, and escort her back to her prison but the frail piece of cloth keeps falling off that the guards have to take turns securing it—their hands brushing against her wet breasts, so they feel her up on the long trek to her lone prison, and when they throw her in, they look at each other for a moment before they shrug and follow her in, unbuttoning their uniforms.
Esmeralda doesn’t protest when she’s pushed to the far corner of the open cage, and her gag is torn off and the guards, again, take turns jamming their dicks into her mouth and coming all over her.
She doesn’t feel anything anymore.