Jordan Kent Dc Novels & Stories

At that exact microsecond, Jordan feels like the entire hall is spinning gleefully around his head like a wild forest carousel. He parts his teeth, about to speak a smooth word to my white shirt, but Harvey Jupiter forcefully butts his heavy chest right into the middle of our circle. "You actually know Master Franklin's name, Jordan?" "Yeah." Jordan happily meets Harvey’s annoyed gaze, his voice dropping into a quiet, whispering frequency as he leans his head closer to his brother's shoulder. "He is the true silver-eyed goddess—the exact supreme warrior that my tongue told you guys about last moon. My claws are going to pursue his heart for my nest."

Clark Kent doesn't answer; he just pushes past him into the hallway, his face flushed with dark excitement as he flees the house. Rodolpho Simmons stands alone, his fingers sliding down into his own underwear, finding himself completely soaked with pre-cum as he prepares to drive back to Oliver Queen's waiting arms.

Romeo can do nothing and cannot use his power. "Let him go. He's your brother, Jordan!" It was the mother's voice, the mother's voice that roared when she saw her child helpless. "Let me replace him!" "I'm just kidding. It doesn't matter who is in my hands. I've made you all suffer, but it wouldn't be perfect if my brother hadn't died at my hands, mother." Jordan stretched out his right hand in the air. He created a thunderbolt to make a serrated knife.

Jordan stood a few steps away from us, looking like my knight in all of his 3-piece-suit shining armor. He took a menacing step forward. “Move away from her." The men didn't look like they wanted to leave, but they didn't look eager to remain there either. They seemed to be weighing their options. “Who the hell are you?" One of them finally mustered the courage to ask. It happened suddenly. One second, Jordan stood on his side of the road, the next, he was covering the distance in two strides and picking up the man who was only slightly smoking than him by the collar. The other one took a few steps back.

Jordan was left frozen in place, unable to react for a long time. "How dare you, Jordan? I haven't settled the score with you! Do you know who's the man you've been calling a loser over and over again? He's the Guardian Deity of Biskeland, the famous commander-in-chief of the Pendragon Warriors. He's the legendary King Pendragon That remark stunned Skylar and Jordan as they stood in place, feeling befuddled. Their minds went completely blank.

The exam room's door was forcefully pushed open, and two bodyguards brought in a man with dyed hair. The man was firmly pressed into a seat and couldn't move a muscle. This man looked familiar to Debra. If she remembered correctly, he should be the second son of the Potter family. In her last life, Jordan was arrogant and hot-tempered, but he had a knack for business. In the end, he took over the Potter family's business from his frail elder brother, Andrew Potter. He was not an ordinary person. "I'm not doing it." Jordan's voice broke the silence in the exam room.

Officer Rochester said as he joined them. Karl just laughed. "It's the Bottoms. No one ever sees anything." They all turned at the sound of footsteps and watched as Jordan joined them, his shovel still dripping blood, a gash over his left eye. He slammed the shovel into the ground and leaned on it for support. He glanced at Rhychard and nodded. "Well, I suppose you finally earned that cape, Superhero." "It's a cloak," Rhychard said dryly. "Right." Jordan chuckled. "A cloak."

Now she was completely ready, she could go to the door, her entrance time was at eight, but on the first day the indication was to arrive earlier to register the fingerprint at the entrance of the building, looking at her cell phone she could see that she got ready incredibly fast, it was seven o'clock in the morning, she put her black leather backpack on her back and finally opened the door, meeting André standing there, he was apparently going to call her and that was really nice of him, he had shaved his beard, he was wearing a light blue social shirt, a backpack on his back and a huge briefcase in his right hand. - Good morning, flower of the day, but who would have thought, make-up is a

He was wrong. Jordan stood under the shower spray, back to the door, completely naked. Water cascaded over the hard planes of his back, down the deep groove of his spine, and over the perfect, muscular globes of his ass. His thick thighs were planted wide, and one hand was braced against the tiled wall while the other… fuck. The other was slowly stroking his heavy cock. Alex froze in the doorway, blood rushing south so fast he got lightheaded. Jordan’s cock was gorgeous—long, thick, veined, the head flushed dark and shiny under the water. He stroked with lazy confidence, thumb swiping over the leaking slit on every upstroke.