Revenge of the green eyes

Derek opened the bedroom door, the gesture accompanied by the jingling of the keys he had put aside. His eyes scanned the room and, for a brief moment, he noticed the expression of satisfaction that adorned Anny's face. A deep sigh escaped his lips, almost imperceptibly, as he watched the scene before him. His stomach churned with a mixture of conflicting emotions. He sank into the armchair next to the bed, the weight of his own tiredness seeming to be amplified by the inner turmoil he was facing. Anny's satisfaction was like a dagger piercing his resolve, a bitter reminder of the choices he had made and how he should act. There was a tension in the air, a battle of wills veiled beneath the surface. Derek wanted, more than he would admit out loud, for Anny to see the darker sides of the fame she so eagerly sought. He wanted her to taste humiliation, just as he did when the city's uncontrolled attention swallowed up and spat out his sister. Derek lost his best friend because of Anny. In his mind, Derek was putting together a scenario, a plan to make Anny understand the complex and unforgiving reality that came with public exposure and how it could hurt. Derek also longed for a moment of isolation, away from prying eyes and headlines, when the naked truth could be revealed. Derek Barette looked at Anny for a moment, the complexity of his emotions masked by an impassive exterior. It was the beginning of his revenge. The silent war raging inside him was not just against her, but against the system that surrounded them. Moving away from his family and being labeled an ordinary London playboy. God. He could imagine the look on his brother Dominik's face. He refused to be just a piece on the media's chessboard, and if there was anything he could do to challenge that dynamic, he was willing to do it, whatever the cost. "You were great today, love." Anny Vaz was a bourgeois who was about to fall for a game, she knew about the young man, but she didn't know about his manipulative and genuine ability to make anyone believe him. He was so hidden. Shy and seemed so lost and eloquent in it all. He was like a silent sociopath. Ready for any kind of game. He was like a movie producer, where he knew what the public wanted and how they wanted it. "Come here, Anny." Anny couldn't help feeling that Derek was distancing himself from his own family, which made her consider the truth of his quest for freedom, a life more like her own. Having a Barette by her side fueled her fantasies. They were powerful, rich and well-off. She thought she had one of them in the palm of her hand. But it was his trick. A deep sigh escaped Anny's lips. She approached with a mixture of confidence and provocation, choosing Derek's lap as her seat. The physical closeness was just a reflection of the connection she believed she had with him, a connection that transcended words. Derek, young and attractive, completed the image Anny had in mind. Following his famous surname had its advantages and disadvantages, but Derek embodied the idea of breaking the chains and embracing life to the full. The sense of belonging she felt when she was with Derek was like an addition to her own power and influence. Although perhaps he didn't fully realize it, her presence next to him made her feel complete, as if she had reached a higher level of mastery over the complexities of the world around them. Anny didn't know what love was, she knew what passion was and she had only felt that way a few times. Derek did it too well with her. So much so that she didn't realize she had fallen for him and would do anything just to please him. He also made her forget her family, her problems and even hid his ideas and strong, Machiavellian personality from her. "What do you want from me, Derek?" In Anny's eyes, what was happening between them was a shared pleasure, a form of revenge against those who had tried to undermine her ambitions. It was a reward for every obstacle overcome, for every effort in their relentless pursuit of success. As she snuggled into Derek's lap, a sense of triumph enveloped her, a conviction that she was finally taking the reins of her own narrative. Barette's figure was more than a presence; it was an affirmation. His hand went up her legs. Anny always chose short, attractive outfits, highlighting her shapely legs and statuesque body. To Derek, she was like a monument, a work of art to be admired. He had learned to turn his anger into attraction, a way of dealing with the complex emotions that her presence aroused. "I want you to kneel. " Anny smiled. The s*x between them was a bold and intense dance, a mixture of emotions that neither of them could fully understand. The waves of anger they felt towards each other intertwined, creating an electric, almost dangerous energy that attracted them irrationally. For Anny, there was an underlying fury about the surname Derek carried, a mark of identity that she associated with a series of privileges and expectations. Every time she looked at him, a mixture of desire and indignation stirred inside her, forming a complex and conflicting connection. Meanwhile, Derek couldn't escape the anger he felt towards Anny for causing his sister pain. The feeling of betrayal mixed with the inexplicable attraction she aroused in him, creating an emotional rollercoaster that he struggled to understand. "What do you want from me, Derek?" It was a tumultuous bond that kept them connected in a whirlwind of feelings. During those intense moments of intimacy, all hostilities and resentments were put aside, replaced by a burning desire that united them. Every touch, every look, was a fusion of attraction and anger, a duality that enveloped them in an inexplicable way. "I want you to put your knee on the floor and then open your mouth for me. Do you need me to teach you?" His hand moved, slid down her neck and then squeezed her flesh. Their faces met. Their instinct was animal. He wanted to squeeze her neck even harder. But his hand slipped. The masochistic part of him screamed and the slap was slapped across the face, the white skin and silky hair moving and the noise waking them both up. Anny laughed, a sadistic streak emerging. "No, you don't have to." Her nails reached his face, sliding and scratching his skin. His green eyes stared at her. As they gave themselves over to this intense connection, the line between love and hate seemed to disappear, giving way to an experience that transcended logic and their own feelings. It was a dangerous dance, a game of unbridled passion that left them vulnerable and, at the same time, more alive than ever. He wanted to tarnish her image. Just as she had done with Dona. "At the weekend, I want to take you somewhere." His thumb slid across her lips, applying delicious pressure. "I really want to enjoy that mouth and that delicious body." The malice in his words was cold. So cold that they seemed to have a little heat in them. "Why don't you do it now?" She stood up, her dress sliding down her body until it formed a mound at her feet. Her breasts were hard, her waist thin and her p***y pink. "Were you without panties, Anny?" "You should check your pocket, Derek." He laughed, not even bothering to check the panties in his pants pocket. She had her back to him. The perfect ass, the thick thighs. He leaned over, bit her flesh hard and then slapped her again. A hard slap that made her legs tremble. Her eyes took on a different shine and she faced him again. The tip of her foot came up and rested between his legs. Derek was virile, with a p***s that could work miracles and make her moan like a b***h in heat. The image of her without clothes, with her leg open towards him, with her s*x exposed, made him raise his hand, touch her moist, warm skin. The delicious sensation of domination. "I'm going to finish you off." He said, not just referring to s*x. But her life was all there was. "Then try." He stood, his hand sliding through her hair, bringing her face inches closer to his. Her breathing was muffled and her chest was heaving with adrenaline. "Bend your knees!" The voice came authoritatively, but she still laughed. He put even more pressure on her hair. Her knee bent to the floor, coming down so that he could face her. He could see his place. Derek let go of her hair, the image was too good and made him bring his hand down to his pants, just enough to free his thick p***s. "Derek." "I just want you to close your mouth and suck my cock." He just pushed his soft mouth away, ending up with a giant, intense erection. He threw his head back and moaned, with the demon's tongue delighting him. The pleasure of finishing her off was greater than carnal pleasure. The delight of ending that surpassed even carnal pleasure. Before his emerald eyes, Anny found herself confronted with the price she would have to pay. The intensity of the situation revealed itself in the distinct features of his face, where internal conflicts and hidden desires intertwined. In his green eyes, Anny would discover the price she would have to pay. However, the price was there, in the subtle shadows hidden behind those eyes. A price whose value would be measured not only in tangible coins but also in emotional sacrifices and unforeseeable twists and turns. - - - - - Thanks for reading! Don't forget to add the library and we'll go from there. Enjoy a lot!