Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1281

Chapter 1281: Chapter 1281

Sophie led the way, walking barefoot across the clearing like a goddess in a war-drum rhythm. Lucy followed, then Stella, then Grace and Natalie, each one moving with new clarity in their eyes. Emma’s hair was tangled, her thighs streaked with desire, but her gaze was sharp and waiting. Zoey still held her blade, but she wore it now like a crown - an ornament, not a threat.

They formed a ring again around the tree.

Around Jude and Rose.

Around the source.

Layla stepped forward first. "We felt it."

"We dreamed of it," Grace said, her voice like silk.

"It’s part of us now," Susan added.

Rose turned to them, still seated on Jude’s lap, sweat trickling down her thighs, his length still deep inside her. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t cover herself.

"There’s more," she said.

Lucy stepped close, placing a hand on Rose’s bare hip. "Then show us."

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. "You want us to do what you did?"

"Not just that," Rose said. "We need to connect. All of us. Together. At once."

Jude looked around at them - twelve women, each already lovers, each already touched, taken, and tasted. But this... this would be different. This would be union.

A ritual.

A circle.

"Join," Rose whispered.

They did.

Naked, hand in hand, they formed a circle around the tree. Around Jude. Around the blooming dark trunk whose roots now pulsed with their pleasure, their unity, their surrender.

He stood.

Rose slipped from his lap and stepped aside.

They made space for him.

Sophie came forward first, cupping his face in both hands. "Whatever happens... I’m with you." She kissed him, mouth hard and needy, her body trembling as she pressed herself against him.

Then Lucy came.

Then Emma.

Then Natalie.

Each one kissed him.

Each one whispered their name like it was a promise.

And then they began.

Stella laid on her back, legs spread, hair fanned around her like a crown of gold. Jude knelt between her thighs and entered her slowly, gasping at the way her hips met his with instant rhythm. She moaned loudly, hands in his hair, body arching under him like a bow.

But the others didn’t wait.

Zoey crawled to Sophie, lips on her breasts, her fingers already sliding between her thighs.

Susan and Natalie kissed, grinding against each other as they moaned into the kiss.

Emma pulled Lucy into her lap and whispered filthy things while stroking her slowly.

And Rose?

Rose watched.

Smiling.

As Jude moved in Stella, Lucy climbed over his back and kissed his neck, whispering, "When you’re done with her, I want you to take me in front of them all."

He groaned.

Stella came hard beneath him, her whole body spasming as her nails bit into his skin.

He pulled out, panting, and Lucy grabbed him by the hand, dragging him to the center again.

She bent over the moss and arched her back. "Now."

Jude slid inside her in one thrust and she gasped, her entire body shuddering as he fucked her slow and deep. The others surrounded them, kissing, touching, moaning, their heat rising into a storm of sex and shadow and song.

Grace rode Sophie.

Zoey licked Natalie until she screamed.

Scarlet had her mouth on Susan’s breast.

Rose kissed Emma with such fire it made the tree behind them glow brighter.

It wasn’t a frenzy.

It was music.

Movement.

A sensual dance of rhythm and release, every moan echoing off the trunks, every orgasm adding light to the pulse underfoot.

Jude took them all.

One by one.

Then two at once.

Then three.

He lost track of who was moaning whose name.

All that remained was the bond - the sacred, shuddering surrender.

When it was over, when they all lay in a tangled, sweating heap, breathing heavy and spent, the tree let out a deep, sonorous hum.

It wasn’t just glowing anymore.

It was awake.

Rose sat up slowly, face flushed, body streaked with seed and sunlight.

"It knows us now," she whispered.

Jude turned to her, dazed. "What does that mean?"

"It means," she said, smiling, "it’s ready to speak."

The roots shifted beneath them.

And a voice - soft, female, ancient - whispered from the tree.

Now you belong. Now you bloom. Now you begin.

The voice faded into the roots as the last vibrations of it passed through the moss, humming deep and low in their bodies like a second heartbeat. No one spoke right away. They lay tangled in the clearing, the tree pulsing beside them, the hum sinking into their skin, as if the island had exhaled inside each of them. Jude couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. His breath was still shallow, body slick with sweat and the scent of all twelve women. His limbs trembled with exhaustion, but there was no pain. Only warmth. Only presence.

The tree’s glow dimmed but didn’t die. The golden veins pulsed slower now, like it had slipped into a state of rest, satisfied and waiting. It was alive. Aware. And now... connected.

Rose rose to her feet first. Her body, streaked with dried desire and moss, looked like it had been carved from myth. She stepped toward the trunk and placed both hands on it. The bark shimmered under her touch. "It recognizes us," she whispered, "like we’ve always been part of it."

Lucy sat up next, brushing strands of hair from her flushed face, her thighs still trembling slightly. "That voice... it wasn’t the tree. It was something inside it. A spirit."

Sophie wiped her mouth, still breathing hard, a small smirk on her lips. "She called us hers."

Natalie tilted her head, licking moisture from her bottom lip. "Now you bloom. That’s what she said."

Jude pushed himself to sit up, arms resting on his bent knees. "What does that mean?"

"It means the ritual’s only the start," Zoey said. She was still lying on her side, idly tracing lazy circles across Grace’s stomach with one finger. "She’s awake now. Whatever we fed her... she wants more."