Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1430

Chapter 1430: Chapter 1430

The sound rose like breath from the earth itself - a chorus of wind and water, rustling leaves and unseen voices. The island’s song wove around them, through them, within them. Each note vibrated in their skin, their bones, their centers, setting off waves of heat that danced from spine to fingertips to thighs and deeper still. Jude stood at the center of the clearing, the mask in his hands now dull and quiet, but the energy it had awakened hummed through him still. The women formed a ring around him, not kneeling now, not bowing. They stood tall, radiant, alive with pleasure and power and something no language could name.

Lucy was the first to step forward. Her lips glistened, her body flushed, and her breath came shallow and quick as she pressed herself to him. She whispered, "We don’t stop now. We don’t go back." Her hands slid down his chest, and he caught her hips, pulling her against him, hard and urgent. They kissed deeply, hungrily, like their tongues were learning each other all over again.

Zoey was next, her fingers sliding over Lucy’s back, stroking down Jude’s arm, her mouth brushing his neck, her body flush against both of theirs. "Let’s burn," she murmured. "Let’s burn and bloom."

The others joined them in a slow, spiraling embrace, hips brushing hips, breasts pressed to backs, thighs slipping between thighs. A dozen hands explored Jude’s body, and his explored theirs in return. Nothing was rushed now. The frenzy had passed. This was ritual again - holy, slow, inevitable.

They moved to the soft grass beside the pool, a tangle of limbs and mouths and heat. Jude lay back, his head in Sophie’s lap as she kissed his forehead, his chest, his lips. Emma straddled his legs, her fingers wrapped around him, stroking him slowly as Grace lay beside him, her mouth at his throat, her fingers in his hair. Natalie pressed her body to his side, moaning softly as her hand moved between her thighs in rhythm with the island’s hum.

One by one, they joined.

Lucy mounted him first, slow and wet and full. Her moan was a note in the song. She rode him with her eyes closed, mouth open, breathless and trembling. Her release came in waves, shaking her, filling the space with the sound of her surrender. She collapsed against his chest, still trembling, still clenching around him, whispering his name again and again.

Then Scarlet took her place.

Then Layla.

Then Susan.

Each time, Jude met them with the same reverence, the same fire, the same endless hunger. They didn’t just take him - they merged with him. Sweat mingled. Lips found mouths, breasts, shoulders, thighs. The air was thick with heat and scent and the slick rhythm of bodies moving in perfect, primal harmony.

By the time Rose straddled him again, Jude’s body was a vessel for something beyond human. His pulse pounded in his ears. His limbs ached with pleasure. He wasn’t sure how he was still moving - only that the island wouldn’t let him stop.

She slid onto him with a cry that echoed off the trees.

She moved like a goddess, her hips slow, deep, rolling. He grasped her ass, squeezing, pulling her down harder, and she moaned again, louder now, wild and open and full of ancient ecstasy. Her hands framed his face, her hair falling in waves around them both.

"You are ours now," she whispered.

"I always was," he gasped, thrusting up into her.

The climax hit like a wave over a cliff - violent and all-consuming. Rose cried out, her back arching, head thrown back, as he spilled into her, body shaking, eyes wide, teeth bared with the force of it. Around them, the others climaxed again - together, as one. Bodies rocked. Lips parted. Fingers curled. Breath caught.

The ground glowed beneath them.

And then everything went still.

Rose collapsed atop him, spent and panting. The rest of the women curled against them - twelve bodies pressed close, tangled, their skin flushed and glowing, their lips swollen, their hearts slowing into one shared rhythm.

Above them, the vines swayed.

The sky broke open into starlight.

And the island purred.

Jude closed his eyes, his hands holding two of them - he didn’t know who, it didn’t matter anymore. Their names were etched into him. Their pleasure was his blood. He wasn’t sure what he was now. Not a man. Not just.

He was theirs.

And they were his.

Forever.

The night deepened around them, soft and thick like honey poured across skin. Crickets sang low in the underbrush, a rhythm as primal as the beat that still pulsed between their bodies. Jude lay at the center of them all, their warmth cocooning him, slick skin against slick skin, breath mingling in humid sighs. No one spoke - not because they lacked words, but because language had become too small for what they now shared. The island didn’t need speech. It spoke through sensation, through the way hips curved into one another, through the soft shiver of fingers brushing over a chest, a thigh, a breast.

Sophie was the first to move.

She rose with a slow grace, her nude body glistening, moonlight painting her curves in silver and shadow. Her hair, damp with sweat and moss, fell in dark curls down her back as she stepped barefoot toward the pool and sank into it with a long, breathless sigh. The water shimmered around her, kissed by the golden light that still seeped from the stones at its edge. The moment her body submerged, the pool brightened - like it recognized her. Welcomed her.

Lucy followed.

Then Grace.

Then Emma and Natalie.

One by one, they entered the water like priestesses, wading in silently, their hands exploring each other with delicate reverence, their lips brushing together in slow, sensual kisses. The pool rippled with the weight of their pleasure, and the scent of their arousal mixed with the flowers blooming at its banks - sweet, heady, wild.