Brock slammed into her, now consumed by his own passion. His hunger coerced a desperate moan from her lips as he rioted, wildly thrusting, wanting her to feel subjugated by the power of his own lust. A new urgency possessed him to free her from past associations that might have caused a mental block that gave rise to any doubts of giving in to the needs of her body she’d been keeping restrained.
Brock groaned and nearly lost the last of his control as Jordan wrapped her legs high around his waist and tilted up her hips in a silent gesture of surrender.
Breathing harshly, he fought to control his rampant lust. She’d reacted like he’d wanted and even when raw sex was what she demanded and asked for, as a Dom he knew better. It was his job to look past those desires and feed the wants and needs inside her soul.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful your full submission is, Jordan? It humbles me, little one,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her tenderly.
“I have never wanted to fully submit to a man, Brock… until you,” she conceded in a husky whimper. “Now, make me fly. Please.”
Brock powered into her, slamming his hips hard against her pelvis. Their cries sounded into the silence of the night as they both gave in and erupted with a ferocity that shook them. The world had fallen away in a rush that left them completely shattered.
For long moments afterwards, Brock lay still as Jordan clung to him, to feel the aftershocks that tore through her small frame.
He pulled her against his side and felt the warmth settle in his heart when she nestled on his chest and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck.
Bliss. This was what it felt like in the aftermath, the serenity of two minds in sync and striving towards the same goal.
Brock tightened an arm around her waist and drew her close. He kissed her temple and whispered, “Sweet dreams, love.”
His words caused emotions to stir inside Jordan, uncontainable against the temporary habituating of sexual elation.
She stared into the night, tossing fitfully, hungover from endless thoughts that fought for acceptance. The cosmic forces had given her Brock, the one man she knew who could bring the woman inside her to full fruition. She was going to hold onto him with the same passion she did with everything else in her life.
He was her future. Her destiny.
Brock hugged her in his sleep. She whimpered from the power of his strength. He relaxed his hold but held fast to her as if she was a lifeline. Her arms tightening around his back. For the first time in years, she felt the tension ebb inside her. The need to keep her heart locked up was slowly crumbling under his expert ministrations of her body and mind. Finally, there would be some light at the end of the tunnel.
Soon, she would be freed from the shackles that had bound her soul to the lonely existence in which she had long been trapped. It was the bright appearance of a real prospect of hope that she had been looking forward to with every fiber in her being.
Chapter Ten
6905 Overlook Terrace, Anaheim, California. The private residence of Colin Woods, the U.S. Attorney for CA…
“In the words of Bob Marley, “Life is worth much more than gold, neither can be bought or sold.” Ali Mohammed Fadhil settled in a plush, bucket chair as he stared out over the Anaheim hills. He looked around with a sneer pulling at his lips. “Looking at this place, it seems the esteemed California Attorney General loves luxury and comfort.” He snorted. “I accept that life is sacred and worth more than money, which means that I can’t be paid or bribed to kill a human being. Ha-ha-ha, what a crock of shit. Money isn’t real, not bank account digits anyway. Why would you be worth less than those digits? Crazy, right? Now we’re back to my last conclusion— if life is worth more than money then it always will be. If your life is worth more than a cent, it’s worth more than all the money man can invent. There can never be another you, that's how special you are.”
“For fuck’s sake, do you ever shut up?” Abu Mohammed al-Hashisi al-Lurayshi grumbled irritably as he shot a sideways look at him. He didn’t like the bastard. There was something about him he didn’t trust— a calculating look in his eyes that never waned. It raised red flags in Abu’s mind. “Especially if you can’t blather about something worth listening to. These self-fabricated aphorisms are going to do fuckall in helping us achieve our goal.”
“Relax, Abu. All I’m saying is that these Americans value material things much more than human life. I’m not sure that killing one man is going to make a bit of difference— certainly not in getting the kind of attention we’re after.”
“We stick to the plan, Fadhil. Besides, it’s not only one man, it’s an entire family. Believe me, it’s going to send a message, especially once we follow up immediately with the bombing of the Ronald Reagan Federal Building and the United States Courthouse in Santa Ana. If that doesn’t send a clear message to the President and his cabinet, nothing will.”
Fadhil regarded Abu critically. “Agreed, but unless an actual message accompanies the act, it’s a senseless exercise, isn’t it?” Fadhil lit a cigarette and took a couple of drags before he continued, “ISIS has never infiltrated the U.S.— not openly at any rate. Are you about to change that and own up to an act of terrorism?”
Abu took a sip of water. His gaze turned cold as he looked at Fadhil. “I’m not, but you are.”
“The fucking hell I am! I’m here to be a part of the new resurgence of power and change but I’m not about to hand myself to the authorities on a platter. Fuck you for even suggesting it. No one knows I’m here, Abu, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“No one?” Abu’s eyebrow raised questioningly.
“Boneiro won’t talk. He’s too clever to raise my ire.” Fadhil’s eyes narrowed. “Except if you and he have an agenda that excludes me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Think about it, Fadhil. You said it yourself. ISIS has never been formally operational in the U.S. If we owned up to an act of terrorism inside their borders, we lose the advantage we have. We’ve infiltrated their territory, my friend and they’re none the wiser. We have to play it safe until all our soldiers are in place to strike.”
“And your idea of playing it safe is to oust me?”
Abu sighed heavily. “Taking responsibility for the act isn’t ousting you. On the contrary, it will draw their attention to Iraq, your home turf, since they won’t believe you’re bold enough to cross their borders. They're going to go searching for you there, focusing their search and countermeasures to where you were last seen in the hope that they’ll kill you in a drone strike.”
“And in the process murder our comrades while in prayer at the mosque? How is that aiding our goal, Abu?” Fadhil was realizing more and more that to the leader of ISIS, losing soldiers was nothing more than what was to be expected. In that, they weren’t too different. Fadhil had no qualms about using innocent people to save his own skin but offering an entire community for the supposed greater purpose… that wasn’t how he’d envisioned their mission would play out.