Title: Tease

Summary: Esmeralda has only one chance to punish Frollo. And she knows full well what his weakness is. Her body. And she will use it to her advantage. This is what should've happened when Frollo talks to her in the church.

Genre: Romance

Rated: T for suggestive themes, then again the movie was suggestive as well

A/N: Remember I haven't watched the movie so no rude, flaming criticism

Esmeralda was trapped. Trapped like a fat rat trying to scurry down a narrow drainpipe. She really couldn't believe that this place was supposed to be her sanctuary. It was still a prison. No offense to the Gods, but it was still a prison through and through. She watched as the Archdeacon and Phoebus walked away, followed by her pet goat, Djali. The naughty goat was head-butting Phoebus in the back. Esmeralda smiled at that. Needless to say, she did not see what was to come.

Soon, she felt long, thin and extremely grasping fingers circling her arm and wrenching it back. She gasped and it was soon followed by a pained groan. Her captor was thin yet strong. Her ears soon picked up a deep, sinister if begrudgingly, sexy voice.

"You think you've outwitted me. But I'm a patient man," It was that cruel, cold fish of a judge, Claude Frollo! Esmeralda grew sick. Why was he here? He'd better not try anything. Esmeralda was a strong woman who could take down a man twice her size. She wondered why in God's name did she try to tease him by leaping on his lap and pulling his face close enough for her to peck his nose. She must have been crazy. Her arm experienced a sharp stab of pain as he twisted her arm higher.

"And gypsies don't do well inside stone walls." He finished with a triumphant sneer. Her hair was shoved into the side of his face as she struggled. Bewitched by the alluring aroma, he buried his crooked nose in the thick tresses and inhaled. By Lucifer's beard, she smell was magnificent! The exotic smell of spices lingered in his nose. It was the only thing that rivaled her scarf. He didn't bother to stifle the sigh of gratitude and ecstasy that left him after he left her hair.

"What are you doing?" Esmeralda asked bitterly, knowing full well what he was doing. For a man with such great influence in the church, he had raging testosterone running through his veins. He wanted her. It was plain to see. Or felt as she could feel a growing pressure against her lower back. Esmeralda knew she attracted tons of men, but never a judge. And definitely not a judge that kept claiming her 'kind' was nothing more than a vulgar herd full of vermin. She pondered this.

"I was just imagining a rope…around that beautiful neck," Now his cold, pointed-tipped fingers began to stroke her neck, brushing against the erogenous point. She gritted her teeth. So he thinks I'm beautiful? She thought. All right, I'm all for playing your twisted game, Frollo. Esmeralda, with courage and spunk far beyond her years, yanked herself free from Frollo and spun away. She snarled at him.

"I know what you're imagining." He was probably undressing her with his eyes. Picturing her on her knees, begging him to take her on a passion-filled, thrilling ride. She knew his lucid thoughts; filled with shameless eroticism that involved him and her tossing on his silk sheets, panting and heaving. She was disgusted with him. Yet, she wanted to torture him after knowing how desirable and forbidden she was to him. It would be sweet revenge.

"What a clever witch. So typical of your kind to twist the truth and cloud the mind with unholy thoughts." What?! Now he was accusing her of making him think and dream of all this lusty nonsense? How ludicrous of him! She was now more determined than ever to make him pay for his words.

"I have done nothing wrong," She answered back hotly. She knew he would rebut; Claude Frollo never stepped away from a challenge.

"Don't deny it, gypsy. Everyone believes you're a witch," Frollo leaned in menacingly. Ooh, he's falling into the trap already. Her lips clenched tightly. "You really don't know what my 'kind' is truly like. Your judgment is entirely based on your ignorance and malice." Frollo's eyes widened. No gypsy ever spoke to him like that! How dare she!

"Witch! You can't deny that you and that marauding fool, Clopin are partners in some sort of devilish witchcraft!" He shouted at her. Esmeralda jaw was set. No one insulted Clopin. Frollo was going to pay.

"You call me a witch? If so, why do smell my hair? Why do you touch my neck? Aren't you afraid of getting struck by lightning?" Her inquiries came like bullets in a fusillade. Frollo was stunned. She had caught him on that point. He had to fight back somehow. Esmeralda smirked, smug at how she had cornered him. She wondered how he would respond to that.

"You are not to play with my mind, gypsy," Frollo growled. He was made a fool of this girl once. He was not going to be one again. "You already know I feel nothing but contempt and abhorrence towards you and your 'kind'." Frollo knew he was flat out lying to her and to himself. But he couldn't show weakness. Judge Claude Frollo was not a weak man.

Esmeralda laughed out loud. What a hypocrite! She knew perfectly well that he held some sort of sick, fiendish lust for her. His initial actions had proven that. Frollo was enraged! How dare the shrew laugh at him! What angered even more was his bodily reaction to her melodious, bell-like laughter. His loins ached. The pressure between his thighs intensified. She was a poison. A poison meant to weaken his judgment and strengthen his yearning for her physical frame. Esmeralda regarded him with defiant eyes. The emerald color in them ignited a spark in his heart.

"Lying is something I always expected of you, Frollo," She said, letting his name roll of her tongue. Frollo was stunned at the way she said his name. The witch was trying to cast a spell on him again. Like how she did in the Town Square, on that stage, dancing and prancing like a nymph. He was not going to be enthralled by that charm again. "But this brings lying to a whole new dimension."

Esmeralda approached him. Her smirk looked more seductive than smug. She walked with a little salacious shake of her hips. That did not go unnoticed with Frollo. His mouth dried. No! He must be strong. The witch cannot torture him again by plaguing his mind with lust and passion. He regretted having touched her intimately; she had learnt his weakness. Her emerald eyes glimmered. Her lips parted, showing off two rows of pearly white teeth. She was a goddess. The Goddess of Hell!

Frollo began to fear that she would try something. Nasty criminals and roguish heathens didn't even strike a tremor in Frollo's body. But this sudden seduction Esmeralda was performing was probably the most frightening thing Claude Frollo had ever experienced. She backed him into the pillar. He shuddered when her gentle, tanned and warm hands touched his cheeks.

Esmeralda wanted him to suffer. She would continue this seductive act and than pull away when he finally wanted to throw against the pillar and violate her in this church. She'd be there for a full fleeting 10 minutes, than no more. He'd be furious but she would delight in his rage. Her hands roamed delicately. Like a person stroking a newborn kitten.

She allowed her fingers to glide down from his sharp cheekbones, to his spindly neck all the way to his slim and slender chest. She smiled. The smile of a cat that had caught the canary. And now the cat wanted to gobble up that canary. Ooh, it was a joy to see Frollo's cheeks flush and to feel his heart banging against his ribcage through his chest. But it won't stop there. Not just yet. He wasn't begging…yet.

She molded herself intimately against his front. Frollo grasped the pillar behind him till his bones ached. He let out a lustful moan. To have this warm, soft and voluptuous femininity pressed up against his hard, thin masculinity was one of his fantasies come true. He was starting to give in. Esmeralda gyrated her hips a little. She felt the pressure rubbing into her grow. Her smile was feral. Yes, that is what I want from you, you bastard! I want you to suffer! But the torture still forged on. Not only her hands moved, her lips seemed to have adopted a mind of their own and they were now fulfilling Esmeralda's mission to make Frollo get on his knees and beg for her.

She moved her head upward and she blew hot air into his ear. He shivered against her. He did not dare to remove his arms from behind me. He knew what her game was. If he so much as give in a smidgen, she'd twirl away and take pride in how she had ruffled him so. But having her delicious mouth in such close proximity to his ear was something that he had wanted for so long. She blew again. His breathing pattern quickened.

She angled her head. Now she was looking into his eyes. Dark blue eyes with an icy shard that seemed to melt away. She moistened her lips with her tongue. Frollo dreaded and longed for what was to occur. She kissed him. Angelically soft kisses that littered his eyes, forehead, cheeks, nose and chin. She lingered in some areas. She did not hesitate in others. Frollo was now shaking like a solitary leaf desperately clinging on a branch in a windy day. His grip tightened on the pillar behind me. He could not falter. Yet, he yearned…he yearned for those ruby lips to touch his dry, cold pale ones. Esmeralda noticed his distress and smile victoriously. Still, she wanted him to squirm more.

Her lips were just a millimeter away from his. Frollo's eyes widened. This was it! The wench was really going to do it! She was a temptress. A temptress meant to be despised. For only a temptress would dare tempt a human being with his one and only desire and then cast him aside. She leaned in. Frollo saw no method of escape. Soon, their lips touched.

Lightning practically passed both of them! Esmeralda, stunned by the sudden burst of energy, deepened the kiss. His lips were dry and cold yet irresistibly soft. Who would have thought that a hard-hearted man would possess such soft, full lips? His tongue broke through and invaded her heat-emitting mouth. Her tongue had some ideas. Their tongues delved and dueled. Daring the other to consent first in this battle of dominance and passion. Esmeralda felt her head swirling. Abandoning all thoughts of her plan momentarily, she flung her arms around her neck. She arched her back up higher. She wanted to taste him more. For he tasted of good port wine and bitter orange peels. Frollo's mind had imploded!

The witch had won! He couldn't bear to be this close to her and still not having her wrapped up in his arms any longer. His arms came out from behind him and he grasped and pulled her against him tightly. His tongue searched and explored within her crevices. She was tantalizing! Frollo did not care that he had lost. And from the looks of things, Esmeralda didn't seem to care that she had won. They were now just a human tangle of lust and desire. It was heaven. How ironic that a creature from the bowels of Hell could give him so much heavenly bliss.

His hand found the ends of her shirt and was just about to rip it off when she broke away from him. She had remembered her plan just in the nick of time. But that epiphany could not erase the result of their violent kissing. She was red in the face and her hair was unruly. He was panting and exhausted. She turned away and began to walk towards the altar.

"You may think me a witch, Frollo but my perception of you is much more despicable." She muttered over her shoulder to him.

Frollo was infuriated at the day's events. That gypsy girl was going to get it from him! She was to be punished for her teasing and seduction.

"I'll get that whorish tease for the torture she put me through. I'll make her beg me for satisfaction and security."

Very, very soon…

A/N: God, my hands ache. So you guys please review, ok? Think about my strained hands!