Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 542: The Rapist’s Sentence

”He slammed Mercer’s head into the tiled wall—once, twice—until the officer collapsed, unconscious, bleeding from the temple.”

The prosecutor’s voice was relentless, painting the scene with brutal precision. ”Then, instead of fleeing, instead of escaping, Elyas dragged Mercer into the stall. He locked the door. And he—”

The prosecutor hesitated, just for a second, as if the words physically sickened him.

”He raped him.”

A gasping murmur spread through the crowd. Julie’s fingers flew to her mouth, her eyes wide, but her thighs parted—just slightly—her body reacting in ways her mind couldn’t comprehend.

”Not just once,” the prosecutor snarled, his disgust barely contained. ”He kept going. Even when Mercer started to wake up, even when he begged, Elyas didn’t stop. He held him down, one hand clamped over his mouth, the other—”

The prosecutor’s voice cracked, just for a second. ”The other is forcing himself inside him. Over. And over. Until the walls were smeared with blood. Until Mercer stopped fighting.”

Julie whimpered, her body trembling, but her pussy was wet—I could feel it, the heat radiating off her, the scent of her arousal thick in the small space between us. My cock hardened, my fingers twitching with the need to touch her again.

”When the other officers finally broke in,” the prosecutor continued, his voice raw, ”they found Elyas still on top of Mercer. His pants were around his ankles. Mercer’s belt was used as a gag. And Elyas? He was smiling.”

A horrified silence filled the courtroom. Even the journalists had stopped scribbling, their pens frozen mid-air.

”Mercer survived the assault,” the prosecutor said, his voice empty. ”But not the aftermath. When he woke up in the hospital, when he realized what had been done to him—” Another pause. ”—he jumped from the fourth-floor window.

The prosecutor’s final words hung in the air like a curse, heavy and suffocating. ”Splat. That’s the sound the nurses said they heard. The sound of a man who would rather die than live with what Elyas did to him.”

Julie’s hand clutched her stomach, her knuckles white as bone, but her thighs remained parted, her body still throbbing with the shameful heat I’d stirred in her. The horror of Mercer’s fate clashed with the dark arousal pooling between her legs, and she hated herself for it.

I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, my voice a dark, velvety murmur. ”Look at what a good thing your husband has done...” My fingers traced lazy, teasing circles on her inner thigh, inching closer to her soaked pussy. ”Such a thoughtful man, making sure his victims don’t have to live with the memories.”

Julie whipped her head toward me, her eyes blazing with fury and something darker. She grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin as she yanked my hand away from her pussy. ”You’re sick,” she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of disgust and desire. ”Whose fault is it that he became like this? You pushed him! You broke him!”

I chuckled, low and dark, my smirk never wavering. ”Oh, Julie,” I murmured, my voice dripping with arrogance. ”I didn’t break him. I just showed him what he already was.”

My hand slid up to grip her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. ”And only I am allowed to call you wife, understand? How dare some bastard think he has any claim on you?”

Julie’s glare softened, her lips twitching into a small, secret smile despite herself. ”Hmph,” she muttered, but her eyes betrayed her, warm and hungry. ”You’re impossible.”

I used Telepathy to slip into her thoughts, and what I heard made my cock twitch with dark satisfaction:

[Jack... why does he always say things that make my heart race like this? He’s so domineering, so possessive... It’s infuriating. But god, it’s so hot. My pussy is throbbing, aching for him. Once this case is over, I’m going to reward him so good... I’ll let him do whatever he wants to me...]

Her gaze flicked to me, dark and smoldering, as if she knew I’d heard her. A slow, knowing smirk curved my lips, and I leaned in closer, my voice a rough whisper. ”Good girl. I can’t wait to see how you reward me.”

The courtroom erupted in chaos. The spectators shouted, their voices a tangled mess of outrage and disgust.

”Hang him!” a man yelled, his face red with fury.

”Monster!” a woman screamed, her voice cracking.

”Rot in hell!” another spat, his fist slamming against the bench.

The judge’s gavel struck repeatedly, the sharp cracks echoing through the room, but the outrage was deafening. Elyas sat there, chained and unmoved, his smirk never fading. His eyes locked onto Julie, a cold, calculating gaze that made my blood boil.

The judge announced his verdict—life imprisonment for Elyas, in complete isolation, where he could never touch another soul. He would be treated as a mental patient, studied, contained, broken.

”This court finds the defendant, Elyas, guilty on all counts of sexual assault, torture, and first-degree murder. He is to be remanded to a maximum-security facility with a mental health unit, where he will serve a life sentence without the possibility of parole.” The judge’s voice was firm, final.

The case was closed.

The crowd began to disperse, murmuring, disgusted, relieved. Elyas was escorted out, chained, his smirk never fading, his eyes locking onto Julie one last time before he disappeared through the heavy doors.

Julie and I stood, preparing to leave, but then—

Two police officers approached us. The same ones who had come to Julie’s house that night. Their faces were grim, their posture rigid.

”Ma’am,” one said, nodding respectfully. ”We need you to sign a few final documents for the case files. Just some formalities to wrap everything up.”

Julie nodded, following them to a small, private side room. The walls were bare, the air stale, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the stack of papers on the table.

Julie’s pen scratched against the paper with sharp, precise strokes, each signature a final nail in Elyas’s coffin. The officer slid the last form toward her, his eyes flicking between us, hesitant. He shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat before speaking.

”Ma’am, everything seems to be in order—”

Julie didn’t let him finish. She pulled a folded document from her purse and slid it across the table with a finality that made the officer’s eyebrows rise.

”Here,” she said, her voice steady, cold. ”Divorce papers. Already signed by Elyas.” Her fingers tapped the paper, her gaze unflinching. ”I want this filed immediately.”

The officer picked up the document, scanning it with a furrowed brow. ”Ma’am, this seems to be in order, but—”