Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1279

Chapter 1279: Chapter 1279

She was alone, dressed in nothing but her long black hair. Her body was as he remembered - soft and strong, every curve still etched in his hands, every freckle known. Her golden eyes glowed faintly.

"You’ve touched them all now," she said. "Felt the truth in their skin."

"What truth?" he asked.

"That the island doesn’t take. It gives."

"It gives you back changed."

"It gives you back whole."

He stepped closer, heart racing.

Rose held out her hand. "You’re ready."

"For what?"

She smiled. "To let go of fear. To feel everything."

Jude took her hand.

The moment their skin met, the air shimmered around them.

And then he was kissing her.

Not like before. Not desperate. Not afraid.

It was slow, sweet, full of memory and newness.

Rose moaned against him, pulling him close, their bodies aligning perfectly. She guided him to the ground, straddled him with aching ease, and sank down onto him with a cry that echoed through the trees.

Their bodies moved in rhythm, breath for breath, heartbeat to heartbeat. Her hands on his chest. His fingers digging into her hips. Her head thrown back. His lips at her throat.

She rode him like the sea - wild and endless.

And when they came, it was together, with a cry that shook the leaves.

She collapsed against him.

He held her.

The island hummed around them.

They didn’t speak for a long time.

When they finally rose, the sky had lightened. The sun was beginning to bleed through the trees.

Jude turned to Rose. "What happens now?"

She looked at him with love. "Now... you bring the rest."

And behind them, the others were waiting again.

Lucy.

Sophie.

Emma.

Scarlet.

Susan.

Natalie.

Zoey.

Grace.

Stella.

Layla.

All smiling.

All humming.

All his.

They didn’t speak.

Twelve women stood in a crescent around him, their bodies glowing with the rising sun, their eyes burning with love, lust, and something older than either. Jude felt like he’d been stripped not only of clothes, but of time. Everything in him trembled - not with fear anymore, but awe.

He turned slowly, naked still, and looked at each one of them.

Sophie’s eyes were stormy with feeling, jaw clenched like she was holding herself together only by force of will. Lucy stood beside her, still wrapped in only a thin layer of woven leaves, her hair tousled, lips parted, breath shallow. Emma stood behind them, arms folded, gaze flicking between him and Rose like she couldn’t decide which desire was stronger.

Scarlet and Natalie leaned together near the trees, their red-and-gold hair tangled, skin glistening with dew. Susan stood barefoot in the grass, still but alert, her body rigid with control she seemed to be losing with every passing second.

Grace and Stella stood hand-in-hand, whispering something too soft for him to hear. Zoey lingered beside them, still armed with her blade - but the way she held it now was ceremonial, not protective. Her smile was crooked and soft.

And Layla...

Layla was watching him like she had from the beginning - with hunger and devotion. Her body practically sang under the light.

Rose moved beside him and took his hand, threading their fingers together. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

Jude understood now.

This was the moment they’d all been moving toward.

He stepped forward, pulling Rose with him, and the circle broke as the others moved to join. Twelve bodies closed in around him, wrapping him in warmth, in music, in them.

No commands.

No instructions.

Just instinct.

It was Lucy who kissed him first - soft, slow, grounding him. Then Sophie pressed against his back, her fingers tracing his spine, her lips against his neck. Scarlet and Natalie moved like dancers, their hands sweeping up his arms, their breasts brushing his chest as they kissed down his shoulders.

Clothes slipped off like falling petals.

The women didn’t take turns - they moved as one, touching each other, touching him, a tangle of limbs and moans and whispers. Someone moaned his name - he thought it was Grace, but her mouth was already on Lucy’s inner thigh when he turned to look.

Jude found himself lowered onto the moss. Warm hands stroked his thighs. Wet mouths kissed every inch of him.

Layla straddled him, her wet heat sliding down his length with practiced ease. She cried out, clutching his chest, grinding down. Above her, Emma leaned over and kissed her mouth, their bodies rocking in rhythm. Stella’s fingers teased both their hips, guiding their pace.

Jude tried to breathe, but Rose kissed him then - deep, wet, raw - and took his hand, pressing it between Susan’s thighs as she gasped and collapsed beside him.

It was overwhelming.

Twelve mouths.

Twelve bodies.

Twelve women who knew him, loved him, needed him - and were slowly becoming one with something divine.

Scarlet rode him next, her red hair whipping around her face, breasts bouncing with each thrust, crying out with every pulse of pleasure. Then Zoey took her place, grinding hard and slow, watching him with those predator eyes as she made him scream.

He lost track of who was kissing whom. Whose fingers were where. Whose thighs clenched around his face. It didn’t matter. It was all them. It was love. And the pleasure didn’t end - it kept climbing, cresting, breaking and building again like waves crashing against his soul.

They worshipped him.

And he worshipped them.

When he finally came again, he wasn’t inside one of them - he was on his back, soaked in sweat and kisses, and Lucy knelt over his face, moaning his name as she rode his mouth. He licked and sucked until she shattered, gripping his hair, trembling, soaking him.

When she collapsed beside him, Sophie took her place - then Emma. Then Natalie.

By the time they were all spent, the sun was high, and the clearing smelled like sex and flowers and something sacred.

Jude couldn’t move.

He didn’t want to.

He lay on the moss, surrounded by bodies - limbs tangled, breasts pressed against his chest and face, thighs over his legs, hair covering his skin like a blanket of wild silk.