Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1512

Chapter 1512: Chapter 1512

Lucy reached for her hand. Sophie took it.

Jude looked from one to the other. "Are you ready?"

Sophie’s answer was in the kiss she gave Lucy - deep, slow, reverent. Lucy moaned softly into her mouth, pulling her down beside them, fingers sliding under her wrap, skin to skin. Jude watched for a moment before pressing his mouth to Sophie’s shoulder, kissing her slowly as his hand stroked between her thighs.

She gasped against Lucy’s lips.

The three of them moved together in a tangle of limbs and sighs, the vines curling around them again like gentle serpents, stroking thighs and backs, teasing but not intruding. Jude’s mouth traveled across Sophie’s breasts, Lucy’s fingers tangled in her hair, and the three of them climaxed together in a symphony of breath and song and the island’s own rhythm.

When they finally lay tangled together in the moss, Lucy whispered, "Now we’re ready."

Sophie opened her eyes slowly. "Ready for what?"

The song answered before Jude could.

A new hum, rising from the trees behind them. Not Rose. Not Zoey. Not Grace.

Susan.

And she was coming.

Susan stepped through the curtain of ferns, barefoot, her long dark wrap trailing behind her like smoke. Her hair had been plaited with silver leaves, strands woven tight against her scalp, glinting in the rising sun. Her eyes found Jude first, then Lucy, then Sophie - lingering there with a quiet, unreadable weight.

No smile.

Just silence.

And then she knelt.

Not in submission. In reverence.

Her fingers dug into the moss, her body trembling slightly, like she was holding back something vast beneath her skin. Jude sat up slowly, the girls pulling their wraps tighter around their waists as Susan crawled forward, not to him - but to Sophie.

"You left the fire," Susan whispered.

Sophie didn’t move.

Susan’s voice cracked, a low whisper filled with tears. "You left me."

Jude held his breath. Sophie sat still for a heartbeat too long before reaching for Susan’s face. Her fingers brushed across her cheek, gentle, trembling.

"You didn’t come back."

"I wanted to. I tried." Susan closed her eyes, leaning into Sophie’s touch. "But the hum was so loud. I thought if I followed it, it would lead me to peace. But it didn’t. It led me deeper into myself. I’ve been circling there ever since."

"Are you still you?" Sophie asked quietly.

Susan nodded. "More than ever."

Then her hands rose slowly, unfastening the cords at her waist. The dark wrap fell in a whisper of cloth to the mossy floor, and Susan knelt naked before them, her body trembling not from shame but from intensity, from something unspoken she carried like fire under her skin.

"I dreamed of this," she whispered, eyes now on Jude. "You. Her. All of us. Connected, whole. We were under the tree of glass roots, and the vines held us while we sang, while we touched, while we became."

Lucy moved aside, her hand reaching to guide Susan between them. She came easily, curling against Sophie first, then pressing her mouth softly to Jude’s chest, reverent and slow.

"I want to be part of this," Susan breathed.

"You already are," Lucy whispered, wrapping her arms around her from behind.

Jude leaned forward, kissing the top of Susan’s head, then her temple, then her mouth. She opened for him, tongue sliding against his, breath hot and fast. Sophie kissed the base of Susan’s spine, her hands roaming the curve of her waist, while Lucy reached around, cupping her breast, flicking her thumb slowly across the tip until Susan moaned against Jude’s lips.

There was no rush. Only worship.

They laid her back in the moss, the vines curling eagerly but gently beneath her body. Jude traced kisses down her throat, to the valley of her breasts, pausing there as Sophie moved between Susan’s thighs. Susan gasped as Sophie’s mouth found her, and Lucy covered Susan’s lips with hers to stifle the rising cry.

Jude watched the way Susan’s body arched, shivered, opened. He watched the way Lucy held her, and the way Sophie took her slowly apart with nothing but tongue and devotion. Susan sobbed once, deep and guttural, her hands in both their hair, her legs trembling, and then she came - loud, helpless, raw.

But she didn’t stop.

She reached for Jude next, pulling him down with her, kissing him desperately, hungrily. Sophie moved to Lucy, straddling her with a grin that was all challenge and lust, their bodies melting together in a new rhythm, while Susan wrapped her legs around Jude and guided him inside her.

It wasn’t just sex anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time.

It was communion.

It was surrender.

It was something deeper than want.

Jude moved inside her slowly, feeling every shift, every tightening gasp, her body slick and burning around him. Susan whispered his name over and over, her hands clinging to his back, her teeth grazing his throat. He kissed her deeply, then kissed Lucy as she writhed beneath Sophie, then kissed Sophie as she moaned Lucy’s name.

Everything blurred.

Every cry and breath and pulse melted into one, into the hum rising again from the trees, the same old melody - no longer haunting, no longer seductive, just familiar. Just them.

They climaxed together in a tangle of limbs, mouths, and vines.

And when it was done, when the moans had faded into panting, into laughter, into quiet, Jude rolled onto his back, staring up at the swaying canopy above.

Susan curled against his left side, Lucy against his right. Sophie laid her head on his stomach, humming softly again, the tune gentle, intimate.

"You see it now?" Lucy asked softly.

Jude nodded.

"I feel it," Susan murmured.

Sophie raised her head, her hair wild, her lips swollen. "So what happens next?"

Jude sat up slowly.

"They’ll come," he said. "All of them. Not to take us. To join us."

"And then?" Lucy whispered.

Jude met her eyes, his fingers brushing softly over her cheek. "Then we’ll sing together."

In the distance, the hum swelled.

And Grace began to sing.