Claude Frollo had left early in the morning to go back to his lonely cell in the cathedral to get supplies for himself and things for the girl. He gave strict orders to the caregivers of his family home to keep the master room locked while he was gone and not to disturb her. He gave some vague excuse about the girl being ill and of delicate health. No one would question him. They would likely think she was another one of the "strays" that he brought home or perhaps one of Jehan's playthings.

Either way, Claude believed that he didn't have to worry about coming back to an empty room. He had checked and double checked the room to make sure there was no way for her to escape. He was confident in his abilities to predict her actions. He had also made sure there was nothing she could use to hurt herself. "After the way she acted last night, she very well may try" he said out loud.

He looked around in his soon to be empty cell in the cathedral. It was full of many things that he had found interesting. He had tools for many experiments, a skull that belonged to one of his favorite horses from his childhood, his medical equipment, and enough books to fill a library. Altogether, it was a strange collection of things for a strange man. Each object pointed to an obsession that he had at one time of his life.

Claude stopped his pacing to pause at the window where he had first watched Esmeralda dance. He thought of how different his life would have been if he had never watched her. How much simpler things would have been.

"But I wouldn't know the joy of a woman" he said to himself. The thought brought him to his next problem and Esmeralda was that problem.

He still felt guilty about forcing his attentions on the girl. Her tears and obvious fear almost stopped him, but it was a husband's right. While they were not married in the technical sense of the word, he considered them to be. After all, they had consummated their marriage and he promised that he would provide for her as a husband should. It was good enough in his mind.

He would provide for her and she would provide her body for him to explore and do with as he pleased. It was only right. He gave her the ultimatum. "The tomb or my bed". Her ability to answer at the time was inconsequential.

Love would come eventually. He firmly believed that it would. And she would come to find pleasure in the act of love. He intended to do that as soon as he got home.

His mind started to fantasize how she would welcome him. Esmeralda taking me by the hand and kissing me with the same passion she showed The Lout. Her lips against mine, biting, licking, and teasing. Planting kisses across my face to my ear and begging me to take her. Her small fingers swiftly removing my clothes and her nude body before me like Aphrodite. Her perfect body writhing against me and moaning in pleasure as I worship her neck, her breasts, her hips, her sweet rounded thighs, and what lays between them. Her sweet moans and I take her again and again until we are satiated with love.

His body started to respond to his fantasies. He had to get back to her immediately.

Claude arrived at Tirechappe ahead of his things. He had to make sure the bird didn't "fly the nest". He had entered the bedroom as silent as the specter that he was rumored to be. He tried to be as quiet as he could in the event that Esmeralda was resting. Much to his surprise, she was not asleep or missing, but appeared to be lost in a dance.

He was enraptured by Esmeralda's dance. Despite the obvious discomfort that she must have been in, she was still beautiful. Her movements were fluid and smooth like flowing water. Her arms were held aloft like a bird about to take flight.

Claude stayed still and silent until the girl spun around. Her eyes became round with fear and anger when she saw who had disturbed her.

Claude set the things that he had brought with him down and rushed over to her. He wrapped the girl in his arms and buried his face in her mass of hair. What had once been silky had become tangled and coarse. He planned to remedy that.

Claude stood there with her for a few moments. He felt her body tense in his arms.

Esmeralda grimaced as he made his unwanted contact and tried to push against him to put distance between them. Her strength was once more no match for his.

He ignored her feeble attempt and lowered his lips to her face. He placed small butterfly kisses across her tearstained cheeks and forehead before pressing his lips against hers.

Esmeralda let out a noise of clear and utter disgust. She hated the way that he made her feel so weak and she hated the sick, possessive smile on his face when he looked at her. She could still feel the smile on his lips. She tried to pull her head away from him, but the priest had other ideas.

His hand clutched the back of her head to hold her in place as his mouth crushed hers. His lips parted hers and he pressed his tongue into her mouth. What he lacked in skill, he made up for with passion as he kissed her. He explored her mouth and wrapped his tongue around hers. Oh my love, how small and sweet your mouth is. So perfect for me.

She squirmed against the priest and tried to close her mouth against the invasion. She returned his kiss with a bite to stop it. It didn't appear to faze the passion-drunk man. If anything, it only aroused him more.

Claude was already aroused at the sight of her, but he became even more so with her touch. He felt his body throb and harden at the contact. His arousal became very apparent as it strained against his clothes and rubbed against her lower body. He was filled with desire for this woman and needed to share it with her.

With one hand, he forced her lower body against his and started to grind his hips against her. He placed the other on him and forced her to trail her fingers down his body to his now fully erect manhood. He pressed her hand against him to show his desire for her. The pressure of her body and touch, even though he was the one behind her touch, was driving him insane with need. Such fever. Oh God, I need this woman.

He released her from the embrace and tried to take her by the hand to their bed. The thought had occurred to take then and there. He decided against it. I'm a gentleman after all, not some peasant rutting his mate on a bare floor. She deserves better than a cold floor. She kept her gaze lowered to the floor and refused to look at anything else. He tried to lead her to their bed, but she planted her feet in and refused to move.

He sighed and swept her into his arms with her back against him. If she would not come willingly, he would make her. It was for her own good. And she would enjoy it too.

Esmeralda knew she could not find her captor physically. He could overpower her as he had already done. She could fight against him by not giving him her mind. She forced herself out of her body and looked down on the scene with indifference.

She saw Him pull the pale girl's gown up to expose her hips and kneel behind her. He pulled his manhood out from his clothes and tried to thrust into her. He couldn't force himself in and she heard her scream. The girl must have been dry from fear. It was agonizingly painful, but she didn't feel it.

The man spat on his hand and rubbed it on himself. He tried to place himself within her again and was unfortunately successful. The girl's body must not have been ready for him, because he could not place himself within her entirely without effort.

He moaned some nonsense about her body being small and tight and how the girl was perfect for him. He thrust into her again and again until his movements and breathing became erratic. He dug his nails into her hips as he climaxed into her and screamed "ESMERALDA!".

He pulled himself out of her and pulled the unwilling form against him.

Esmeralda looked down at the scene and thought "Poor girl".