Wedded Bliss - Part Six
anonymous
May 31 2011, 00:06:09 UTC
His smug words, spoken in such a revoltingly possessive tone of voice, infuriate Esmeralda. Her eyes snap open, glowing with a intense blaze that could easily have rivalled the flames with which her husband had once engulfed Paris with in his crazed search for her. She smiles and twines her brown arms around Frollo's neck, drawing him further into her embrace like a deadly serpent.
It is time...
Frollo surrenders wholeheartedly to the gypsy girl's pliant form, groaning as she grips his shoulders and wraps her legs around his waist, taking him deeper into her slippery core. He pauses, raising himself up so that he can gaze down at the beautiful creature beneath him, and closes his eyes as a familiar pang of lust strikes at the sight of her flushed cheeks and tangled curls.
His loins are aching and, desperate for release, he grits his teeth and presses his manhood between his wife's slippery folds. Her cunt feels so indescribably wonderful around his cock - she is so wet and tight and the Minister's deafening pants echo around the room as he grinds his pelvis against Esmeralda's damp pussy. She sighs blissfully, quietly confident and without inhibition as she presses her lips to Frollo's ear and whispers in her most sultry, enticing voice.
"Claude...fill me up...make me yours..."
Her meek request sends him over the edge and he pounds into her, moaning incoherently as he feels his orgasm nearing. Esmeralda takes a deep breath to steady herself and reaches into the thick mass of her raven curls, smiling as her fingertips brush against the mother-of-pearl hairpin secreted there.
Frollo's thrusts are erratic, his breathing laboured and suddenly he throws back his head, letting out a strangled cry of triumph as he comes, shooting his seed deep into his sweetly smiling bride. This is the moment Esmeralda has been waiting for - he is exposed, vulnerable and at the mercy of a vicious, avenging angel.
She lunges forward, jabbing the hairpin into the side of his throat with as much might as she can muster. It pierces his skin easily, sliding through muscles and puncturing veins and arteries in one swift, gratifying motion. Esmeralda flops back into the soft pillows, watching as Frollo gulps and, mouth and eyes wide in a dull expression of surprise, presses his fingers against the wound. His hand comes away stained with his own blood, which is now gushing freely over his neck and chest, and he frowns in pain and confusion. Finally his dark eyes flash in a sudden moment of realisation and he gazes down at Esmeralda, a dizzying mixture of raw emotions playing out on his ashen face.
Esmeralda refuses to look away, hoping to see some form of fear or remorse pass over his features but instead he throws down the gauntlet and his thin lips twitch into a terrifying semblance of that arrogant, mocking smile she has always detested. Even now, as his life-force flows away in thin, crimson rivulets, even now he cannot admit defeat.
Frollo's painful grip on her hips begins to loosen and his manhood slips out of her as he sinks back onto his haunches, never breaking eye-contact with his murderess, who glares back, hating herself for playing this ridiculous game - he is a dead man and yet he still has so much power over her...
As the light finally dies from his eyes, Esmeralda feels a great weight lift from her shoulders. The demon is dead and her people are finally free. Of course, she herself will not benefit from Frollo's death - there is no way out of the Palace of Justice and she knows that tomorrow the maid will find her here, with blood on her hands and the murdered Minister seed drying on her thighs.
Yes, the gypsy girl will hang for this crime but Esmeralda knows, even as she dreams beside her husband's cold body, that when she mounts the gallows it will be with a smile on her face.
Re: Wedded Bliss - Part Six afterandalasiaJune 11 2011, 09:25:38 UTC
Oh man, I'm so sorry that I missed the ending of this before now. Ths is just delicious, anon, dark and fiery, and your Esmerelda is so spot-on. Thank you so much for filling this!
It is time...
Frollo surrenders wholeheartedly to the gypsy girl's pliant form, groaning as she grips his shoulders and wraps her legs around his waist, taking him deeper into her slippery core. He pauses, raising himself up so that he can gaze down at the beautiful creature beneath him, and closes his eyes as a familiar pang of lust strikes at the sight of her flushed cheeks and tangled curls.
His loins are aching and, desperate for release, he grits his teeth and presses his manhood between his wife's slippery folds. Her cunt feels so indescribably wonderful around his cock - she is so wet and tight and the Minister's deafening pants echo around the room as he grinds his pelvis against Esmeralda's damp pussy. She sighs blissfully, quietly confident and without inhibition as she presses her lips to Frollo's ear and whispers in her most sultry, enticing voice.
"Claude...fill me up...make me yours..."
Her meek request sends him over the edge and he pounds into her, moaning incoherently as he feels his orgasm nearing. Esmeralda takes a deep breath to steady herself and reaches into the thick mass of her raven curls, smiling as her fingertips brush against the mother-of-pearl hairpin secreted there.
Frollo's thrusts are erratic, his breathing laboured and suddenly he throws back his head, letting out a strangled cry of triumph as he comes, shooting his seed deep into his sweetly smiling bride. This is the moment Esmeralda has been waiting for - he is exposed, vulnerable and at the mercy of a vicious, avenging angel.
She lunges forward, jabbing the hairpin into the side of his throat with as much might as she can muster. It pierces his skin easily, sliding through muscles and puncturing veins and arteries in one swift, gratifying motion. Esmeralda flops back into the soft pillows, watching as Frollo gulps and, mouth and eyes wide in a dull expression of surprise, presses his fingers against the wound. His hand comes away stained with his own blood, which is now gushing freely over his neck and chest, and he frowns in pain and confusion. Finally his dark eyes flash in a sudden moment of realisation and he gazes down at Esmeralda, a dizzying mixture of raw emotions playing out on his ashen face.
...rage, disgust, pain, desire, betrayal, disbelief...
Esmeralda refuses to look away, hoping to see some form of fear or remorse pass over his features but instead he throws down the gauntlet and his thin lips twitch into a terrifying semblance of that arrogant, mocking smile she has always detested. Even now, as his life-force flows away in thin, crimson rivulets, even now he cannot admit defeat.
Frollo's painful grip on her hips begins to loosen and his manhood slips out of her as he sinks back onto his haunches, never breaking eye-contact with his murderess, who glares back, hating herself for playing this ridiculous game - he is a dead man and yet he still has so much power over her...
As the light finally dies from his eyes, Esmeralda feels a great weight lift from her shoulders. The demon is dead and her people are finally free. Of course, she herself will not benefit from Frollo's death - there is no way out of the Palace of Justice and she knows that tomorrow the maid will find her here, with blood on her hands and the murdered Minister seed drying on her thighs.
Yes, the gypsy girl will hang for this crime but Esmeralda knows, even as she dreams beside her husband's cold body, that when she mounts the gallows it will be with a smile on her face.
She has won.
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