9. Emma
EMMA
My body is on fire, pleasure burning through me as Brody fucks me hard.
His movements are punishing, relentless.
I can’t catch my breath. All I can do is surrender to him as he stuffs me full of his cock, the bed creaking beneath us as we move.
His body dwarfs mine, pushing me harder against the mattress, my breasts bouncing with every rough thrust. I cling to him tight, arousal seeping down my thighs, the world starting to blur around the edges.
Oh, God…
My toes curl, every muscle tightening as I feel an orgasm blooming deep inside me. The sensations turn me wild, and I move against Brody, grinding my clit against him. Instinct takes over, chasing my release, desperate for it.
“Look at me, Emma.”
Brody’s voice is a deep command, and I lock onto his gaze, the intensity of it making me tremble. There’s a feral glint in his eye, something more animal than man as he claims me as his own.
“Come for me, sugar,” he growls. “Show me you’re mine.”
My body obeys him. Pleasure crashes through me, radiating from between my thighs as I scream Brody’s name.
In an instant, his lips are on mine, his tongue invading my mouth.
He doesn’t let up—he fucks me harder as I come, drawing out my orgasm, prolonging my shudders of pleasure until I feel him lose control.
His rhythm turns jerky, and he groans against my lips, his kiss bruising.
Warm cum spurts inside me, and I feel Brody’s cock twitching until he’s finally spent.
He collapses beside me, pulling me close, and I rest my head on his chest, listening to the quick thud of his heart. Soon, it begins to slow, our breathing returning to normal as we hold each other, the sweaty sheets tangled beneath us.
“That was perfect,” Brody murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re fucking incredible.” He sounds awestruck, like he can’t believe I’m real, and it sends a shiver of delight through me. “How you feeling, sugar?”
“Amazing.” I turn my head to grin at him, our faces so close that his beard brushes my chin. “A little sore, but…I like it.”
Brody groans. “Fuck, you’ll be the death of me.”
He presses a kiss on my lips and scoops me into his arms like I’m weightless, carrying me into the bathroom.
We take a hot shower, running our soapy hands over each other until we’re both clean.
Then, once we’re toweled dry, Brody makes up the bed with fresh sheets and we bury ourselves beneath them, cuddling up close.
“You tired, sugar?” he asks as I let out a yawn.
I nod. My eyes are heavy, every muscle relaxed as I melt against Brody.
“Then let’s get some sleep.” He repositions himself, his arm tight around me as he stretches out his giant body, and I let out a deep sigh of contentment. I feel so safe in his arms. So happy.
“Goodnight, Brody,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Night, beautiful.”
I fall asleep almost instantly, drifting off with a smile on my face.
When I wake up the next morning, it’s not even seven.
Pale morning sunlight filters through the curtains as I sit up in bed, moving carefully so I don’t wake Brody.
He’s still fast asleep, and I stare at him for a few minutes, watching the rise and fall of his bare chest. My eyes follow the swirls of dark ink on his arms, all the way up to his broad shoulders.
His frown lines are softened by sleep, but even now, there’s a hint of a scowl on his handsome face, a seriousness that never quite goes away.
My heart squeezes with affection as I look at him—the man who has changed everything for me.
For the first time in my life, I feel hope.
Real hope. My future doesn’t stretch before me like a long dark tunnel anymore—now I see light.
Possibility. And it’s all thanks to Brody.
With one last look at him, I ease myself out of bed and pick my clothes up off the floor before padding into the living room.
I get dressed and unlock the front door, walking outside into the brisk morning air.
My toothbrush and all the other toiletries Brody bought me yesterday are still back in the outbuilding, so I head toward it, letting myself inside.
In the bathroom, I freshen up and brush my teeth, my heart fluttering as I think back to last night.
It was the most magical night of my life.
There’s a delicious ache between my legs this morning, a reminder of how it felt to surrender myself to Brody, and my heart soars as I hear the front door of the outbuilding open behind me.
“Good morning!” I call, hurriedly wiping my face. “Sorry if I woke you. I just came out here to brush my teeth.”
Grinning with anticipation, I hurry into the living room, expecting to see Brody.
My father is waiting for me.
I freeze, a scream lodged in my throat. My stomach sinks, fear rushing through me like ice in my veins. He’s standing in the middle of the room, watching me calmly. But I can see the fury etched in his features. It narrows his eyes, tightens his jaw.
“Hello, Emma.”
I feel sick. I hoped I’d never have to hear that voice again. Instinctively, I take a step back, my throat dry.
“H-how…” I suck in a lungful of air, choking on it. “How did you find me?”
“The car you stole. My car. It’s fitted with a tracker.” Triumph glints in his eye. “All the vehicles in Scourfield have them. I was prepared for this eventuality.”
My head spins.
A tracker?
“But…how come you didn’t find me sooner?” I ask.
The triumph fades into a glare. “This is a remote spot—the signal isn’t accurate. I’ve been driving around these woods for days.”
That explains why he looks so unkempt. His long hair is tied back, lank and greasy as though it hasn’t been washed in a while.
“The red truck.” I swallow hard. “Paolo’s truck. That was you?”
A dark cloud passes over his face. “Yes. You stole my car, so I had to make other travel arrangements. Paolo came with me. He’s waiting for us in the truck.”
It feels like I’ve woken up into a nightmare. I was anxious about the red truck, but I was never truly convinced it was my father. I had no idea he could track the car.
Why didn’t I think of that?!
But stealing a vehicle was the only way out. The mistake was keeping it. I should have dumped the Honda the first chance I got.
“What do you want?” I ask weakly. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to bring you and my car back to Scourfield, where you belong.”
It’s the answer I expected, but it still sends a shudder through me.
Back to Scourfield.
I try to imagine it—going back to the desert. Back to the fear, the silence, the submission. Determination surges through me, and I meet my father’s gaze, ignoring the trembling in my hands.
“I’m never going back,” I tell him. “Never.” Then I grab his car keys from the side and throw them to the floor in front of him. “You can have your car. But you can’t have me.”
Father slowly bends down to grab his keys, every movement calm and measured. But I know his anger too well. I can see it radiating from him like a red cloud.
“You know the rules, Emma,” he says. “Scourfield is your home. It always will be.”
“It’s not a home. It’s a cult.” I spit out the last word like it’s poison, but Father doesn’t blink.
“I see.” He sighs deeply, shaking his head. “You’ve been speaking to outsiders, haven’t you? They’re always quick to label things they don’t understand, Emma. But you’re smarter than that. You’re one of us.”
“I’m not one of you,” I say. “You can’t manipulate me anymore, Father?—”
“Don’t call me that.” His eyes flash. “If you wish to address me, you will call me The Leader.”
“No! I won’t.” I ball my fists, summoning all my courage as I look at him. “You’re not my leader, and you’re not my father anymore, either. You’re just a very sick man, and I pity everyone in Scourfield—everyone trapped there by your lies.”
But just like all fanatics, he becomes more resolute the more I argue. He looks at me with something like disappointment. In his mind, I’ve let myself be tricked. Corrupted by outsiders.
“I was afraid it would come to this,” he says. “But if you won’t come back of your own accord, then we’ll have to bring you by force.”
“Like hell,” a voice says roughly.
Father and I jump, looking toward the front door. Brody stands on the threshold, glowering with rage, huge and formidable as the mountain itself. He strides into the room and shields me with his body, facing my father.
“You want her?” he growls. “You’ll have to get through me first, asshole.”