Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women -
Chapter 1505
Chapter 1505: Chapter 1505
Grace ran her fingers through Scarlet’s hair, which now shimmered faintly red under the star-glow. "It’s like we’re connected to every root. Every stone. I can feel the river even though it’s not near us."
Jude rose slowly, heart still pounding. "Then what now?"
The forest answered.
A pulse of wind lifted the leaves.
The silver path appeared again, stretching in a new direction - this one lined not with flowers, but with fireflies, a thousand of them, blinking like beacons in the dark.
Rose stood, completely nude, utterly radiant. "Now we follow again."
"Where does it lead?" Emma asked.
"To what we’ll become next," Rose said.
They gathered their strength, their breath, their trust in each other.
And walked again into the forest.
Naked.
Marked.
Transformed.
The fireflies danced in spirals ahead of them, laughing in light.
And far in the distance, a new song began.
They walked in silence at first, not from fear or hesitation, but from the reverence that had taken hold of them all. The forest parted like it knew them now, accepted them - perhaps even loved them. Each tree bowed slightly, their leaves whispering in an ancient language that made Lucy shiver against Jude’s side. Her hand brushed his, fingers laced, and when he glanced at her, her eyes weren’t just human anymore. There was a glow behind them, something like moonlight reflecting off deep water. Soft. Bottomless.
The path beneath them turned dark - obsidian stone woven with moss, smooth and cool beneath their bare feet. Fireflies continued to guide them in a lazy arc through the thickening mist, until the trees gave way again, this time to a grove they hadn’t seen before. In its center was a low structure made of branches, vines, and something that gleamed like bone. Not quite a temple, not quite a nest, it pulsed with the same light as the plinth they had just left.
"We’re here," Rose said, though no one had asked.
Jude took in the space slowly. The air inside the grove was thick with humidity, scented with sandalwood and rain. Everything felt softer here - quieter, heavier. The walls of the structure breathed slightly, as if it lived. A low, melodic hum vibrated through the floor of the grove, not unlike a heartbeat. Not unlike the song that had started all of this.
Zoey stepped forward first, brushing her fingers along the structure’s edge. It responded to her touch - opening slightly like petals responding to sun. Her lips parted in awe. "It’s alive."
"It’s waiting," Grace said softly.
Emma moved behind Jude, her arms circling his waist. "So are we."
He turned to face her, his hands cupping her face. She was flushed, radiant, her lips parted with unspoken questions - but no fear. Not anymore. When she kissed him, it was with the slow burn of understanding, the acceptance of what they had become and what they still might yet be.
The others began to move as well. Sophie stepped beside Lucy, their fingers brushing, their eyes meeting with something fierce and tender beneath the surface. Layla and Scarlet slipped into the shelter, bodies sliding along the curved interior, their laughter soft and breathy like wind through chimes.
Jude followed Emma into the space, the others surrounding them, forming again that circle of breath and skin and desire. But this time it wasn’t about seduction. It was about knowing. Connection. Worship.
Emma pulled him down beside her, her legs curling over his hips, her breath already uneven. Her back arched as his mouth found her collarbone, then her breast, then lower, worshiping every inch with lips and tongue and the reverence of a man on his knees before a goddess.
She moaned his name like it was a hymn.
Lucy moved in from the side, her body pressing against Jude’s back, her hands exploring the curve of his ribs, the edge of his thighs, her lips finding the space behind his ear. "You’re ours," she whispered. "Just like we’re yours."
And then Sophie.
Then Grace.
Then Zoey.
They took turns. They shared. They kissed each other as they kissed him. Their mouths never idle. Their hands never still.
The hum beneath the shelter grew stronger.
Like the island was singing through them now.
He moved between them - inside Emma first, then Lucy, then Sophie - each union not a conquest, but a devotion. Each climax was communal. Felt by all. When one woman cried out, the others shuddered as if they had been touched the same way. They moaned in harmony, bodies tangled, limbs entwined, sweat mingling like holy oil on sacred skin.
Stella lay beneath Scarlet, their bodies a mirror of breath and rhythm. Layla curled between Zoey and Grace, her mouth tasting one, her fingers inside the other. It was a spiral of pleasure, a bloom unfolding. The shelter pulsed golden-white, the light throbbing with each shared orgasm, each gasping moan. Time no longer mattered. Names didn’t either.
Only the knowing.
Only the pulse.
Only the offering.
Jude felt his body reach its limit again and again, and still they drew more from him, as if he had become the chalice from which they drank. But he didn’t feel drained - he felt reborn. Rebuilt. Remade.
When the last wave finally ebbed, they lay together in a knot of limbs and warm breath, the shelter glowing faintly around them like a halo. No one spoke. There was no need.
The island had accepted them.
No - embraced them.
Rose rose to her knees, hair damp, skin glowing. "We’ve given what was asked. Now it will give back."
A tremor moved through the grove.
A distant rumble, not of danger - but of awakening.
Roots twisted visibly beneath the stone. Trees outside the shelter leaned inward.
And then came the sound.
Not a song.
A voice.
No words. Just feeling.
Love.
Pride.
Joy.
The forest exhaled.
And above the grove, the sky opened - not with sun, but with starlight, bright as dawn and ancient as death. It fell on their bodies like warmth and promise, filling them from within. Emma gasped and sat up.
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