Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1478

Chapter 1478: Chapter 1478

Jude thrust up into her, harder now, more insistent. Emma’s cries echoed off the glowing walls, her nails raking down his chest. When her climax came, she bit her lip, her body convulsing, and he held her as she trembled in his arms.

Then Natalie took her place, already wet and ready, guiding him back inside with practiced ease. She leaned forward and kissed him as she rode, one hand in his hair, the other between her own legs, flicking and rubbing as his thick shaft pounded into her.

Lucy, Zoey, and Rose crowded close, kissing each other and Jude, their hands everywhere - stroking his thighs, his chest, Natalie’s breasts. Natalie came hard and fast, crying out his name, her body slumping into Rose’s arms as Jude finally let himself fall back, breathless, aching, still unsatisfied.

They weren’t done.

Not until each of them had taken him. Claimed him. Shared themselves.

Stella was next - slow and commanding, grinding down on him like a goddess. Then Grace - gentle and trembling, moaning with every tender thrust. Then Lucy, who rode him like fire, her rhythm wild, her kisses savage. And finally, Zoey - who knelt over him like a queen, took him deep, and refused to let him finish until he begged.

He did.

And when he came, it was inside her - his voice breaking, his vision white-hot, his body shaking as all the magic, the connection, the need burst from him in waves that made Zoey cry out his name.

They collapsed together, limbs tangled, sweat mingling, hearts pounding.

Silence returned.

But not emptiness.

Fulfillment.

The being - the glowing presence - reappeared at the throne. She knelt beside them and touched Jude’s chest. "Now," she whispered, "you belong."

Jude opened his eyes and saw them all, wrapped in each other, breathless and smiling.

And in that moment, he knew.

They weren’t just lovers. Weren’t just survivors.

They were the song.

And it had only just begun.

Jude lay on the warm stone, his chest rising and falling slowly as his body pulsed with aftershocks of pleasure and power. Around him, the women curled against one another like vines drawn toward light - limbs tangled, skin glowing, whispers soft as the breeze slipping through the temple chamber. The air was thick with the scent of them: sweat, sex, sweetness from the roots above. He tasted them on his lips. He felt them in his blood.

Sophie was pressed to his left side, her hair damp against his chest, fingers tracing slow circles around his navel. Emma lay draped over his thigh, one leg still trembling occasionally, her breath feathering against his skin. Zoey, still atop him, rested her cheek against his shoulder, her fingers interlaced with his, her body so flush to his he could feel her heartbeat matching his.

And still, the throne pulsed faintly.

The being hadn’t vanished. She watched from the edges of the light, her form flickering gently, shifting shape every few moments - first like Rose, then like Lucy, then something older, more primal. Not threatening. Patient. A mother. A lover. A mirror. She was the island’s breath given flesh, and now Jude understood - she didn’t want to take them. She wanted to complete them.

He looked around slowly. Lucy was curled near Natalie, both of them whispering with lazy smiles, fingers exploring even in the quiet aftermath. Grace and Stella were tangled together like sleeping sirens, arms tight, legs locked. And Rose... she sat just beyond them all, her body bare, her eyes closed, humming quietly.

The same song.

The one that had started it all.

Jude rose slowly, careful not to disturb the women resting against him. He stood, stretching, and felt the air shift with his motion. The chamber acknowledged him. Welcomed him. The vines above unfurled slightly, dropping another slow trail of nectar that glowed like moonlight in honey.

He caught a drop with his finger.

It was warm. Alive. The moment it touched his tongue, his body shivered again, arousal flaring raw and hot. He turned toward the throne and the being - who now bore his own face again - tilted her head in approval.

"They’ll wake soon," she said. "And they’ll want you."

He nodded. "They always want me."

"But now they understand why."

He walked toward her, steps silent on the stone, the hum growing louder in his veins with every breath. "Why did you choose us?"

"You chose each other first," she answered. "I simply answered."

Jude stopped at the edge of the throne and looked down at her. "What are you really?"

She rose, her glow pulsing stronger now, wrapping around her like mist. "I’m the part of you that you buried. I’m the part of them they feared to speak aloud. I’m the ache that never fades. I’m the hunger without shame. I am what grows when love and lust stop pretending to be different."

She took his hand and guided it to her breast - warm, soft, pulsing with light. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t hesitate.

She leaned close. "You can leave the temple. You can walk away. But you will never stop hearing the song. Not now. Not after this."

"I don’t want to walk away," he said.

She smiled, and her form shimmered - becoming Rose again. "Then sing it with us."

Behind him, the others stirred. Sophie kissed his spine from behind, slow and deliberate, her hands sliding around his waist. Lucy pressed against his side, her cheek to his shoulder, murmuring his name. Natalie slipped beside them, her fingers trailing down his chest. Grace, Stella, Zoey, Emma - all rising now, like the tide.

The hum intensified.

The temple responded.

The vines dropped lower.

And Jude opened his arms.

They moved together - this time not in frenzied need, but with reverent rhythm. Their bodies swayed as one, like dancers in a ritual as old as blood. No words passed between them. Just kisses. Touches. Moans. Each woman took him again, one after the other, in the soft light of the chamber, their bodies dripping with sweat and honey and light.