Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1323

Chapter 1323: Chapter 1323

Jude didn’t know how long he lay there, surrounded by warm skin, soft sighs, and the sticky sweet scent of sex that hung thick in the clearing like incense. His pulse had slowed, but his body still thrummed with that strange, eternal hunger. It was no longer the urgency of lust - it was deeper now, older. Like something sacred had rooted itself in his spine and was blooming outward, demanding worship not with words, but with moans and movement and the rhythm of flesh on flesh.

Rose curled against his side, her hair damp with dew and sweat, her thigh draped over his, her hand idly stroking along the line of his stomach. Every now and then she’d press a kiss to his chest without looking up, soft and reverent, like she was grounding herself in the heat of him. Lucy lay on his other side, whispering slow, half-drunk praises against his neck, while her fingers lazily traced down his torso, playing with the edge of his cock, which never seemed to soften completely anymore. It lay heavy, warm and alive, as if it belonged to the island now just as much as it did to him.

"We’ve never been this connected," Emma said from where she lounged nearby, her naked body gleaming with remnants of their worship. "Not even when we first arrived. It feels like... we’ve stopped pretending we’re human."

Zoey smirked from her place near the tree’s roots, her fingers gliding idly between her own thighs. "We were never just human. Not after the shimmer. Not after the bones. Not after her."

She nodded toward the great black tree, which stood silently watching them, the golden veins in its bark pulsing slowly, almost like a heartbeat.

Susan turned on her side, propping her head on one arm, her breast resting against Grace’s back as she murmured, "You think it’s watching us?"

"It’s inside us," Rose whispered, finally lifting her head. "It doesn’t need eyes. It feels every movement. Every climax. Every breath we take when we’re wrapped around him."

Jude groaned softly as Lucy’s fingers wrapped more firmly around him. She smiled, slow and seductive, her eyes half-lidded as she leaned in and kissed the tip of his cock, letting her tongue swirl there, lazily teasing.

"It feeds on connection," she murmured. "So let’s give it more."

Grace slid between his legs before he could respond, lifting them, guiding him inside her with practiced ease. She was warm and slick, and when she lowered onto him, he groaned aloud, his hands gripping her thighs, holding her close. She rocked slowly, her lips parted, her moans soft and high, while Lucy kissed his chest and neck, her fingers moving between Grace’s folds and his base, slippery and slow.

"I want to come with her," Lucy whispered, crawling over Grace’s back, pressing her breasts to Grace’s shoulders, her mouth finding her ear.

They moved together on him, as if choreographed by something older than instinct. Jude held them both, feeling the way their bodies pulsed around him, the way Lucy moaned as she ground herself against Grace’s lower back. When Grace came, Lucy followed immediately, their cries overlapping, their thighs shaking.

Jude didn’t finish. Not yet.

Zoey climbed onto his chest, facing away, her slick folds hovering just above his mouth. "Don’t move," she ordered, breathless. "Just taste."

He obeyed, licking into her slowly as she settled over his face, her moans turning to gasps as she rode his tongue. Her back arched, one hand bracing on his shoulder, the other tangled in his hair. She ground down harder, wetter, and when she came, her whole body shook.

Natalie was next.

She straddled his lap, sliding onto him with a soft whimper, her pace gentle at first but growing with each bounce. Susan moved behind her, kissing her shoulder, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples as Natalie cried out Jude’s name again and again. He thrust up into her, hard and deep, driving her over the edge. Her orgasm hit like a wave, and Susan kissed her through it.

Still hard. Still full.

The island pulsed in response.

Sophie crawled into his lap next. She didn’t ride him. Not yet. She kissed him - long, slow, claiming - then lowered herself onto his cock, grinding in lazy circles as her hands cradled his face. "This is how I remember you," she whispered. "Before all of this. Before the shimmer. Just us. Skin. Breath. Heat."

She didn’t break eye contact as she rode him.

And when she came, it was with a single soft gasp and a tear slipping down her cheek.

He kissed it away.

Scarlet took her place next, no words, just desperate movement, a wild rhythm, her nails raking down his chest. Her body clenched around him hard, and when she came, she bit his shoulder, her thighs trembling, her back arched like a bow.

Jude was shaking now, his body on the edge, needing release.

Rose returned to him.

She didn’t straddle him. She sank onto her knees between his legs and took him into her mouth, slow and deep, moaning as she tasted all of them on him. Her tongue was soft silk, her throat velvet heat, and she didn’t stop until his hands were gripping her hair, until his hips bucked.

He came with a roar, pouring into her mouth, and she drank it down, every drop.

When she lifted her head, her lips were glistening, her eyes golden.

"You’re not just the center anymore," she whispered. "You’re the seed."

Around them, the black tree shook.

Petals drifted down from above, glowing gold, melting into their skin. The moss beneath them warmed again, the air thick with the perfume of blooming flowers and sex.

The wives curled around him again, exhausted, glowing, complete.

And somewhere in the distance, deep in the woods, a new sound echoed.

A second tree awakening.

The island was growing.

And it was growing through them.

The sound echoed like a drumbeat made of breath, soft and rhythmic, pulsing through the trees in waves that matched the lingering throb in Jude’s body.