Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1516

Chapter 1516: Chapter 1516

Jude moaned softly, hands finding her hips, gripping them as she began to move. She was wet already, slick and hot, guiding him into her with a slow push that made them both shudder. Her forehead pressed to his. Her breathing matched his. Each rise and fall of her hips was a heartbeat. A prayer. A promise.

"I dreamed of you before this place," she whispered against his mouth. "But I never knew it was real until you touched me like this."

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her steady as he met her rhythm. Around them, the others stirred - Emma kissing Natalie’s shoulder, Grace curled into Stella’s lap, Sophie sliding into the cradle of Lucy’s legs. They weren’t watching out of curiosity anymore. They were witnessing something sacred.

Zoey’s moans grew louder, breathless, broken. Her nails left trails on Jude’s chest. She clenched around him, her orgasm starting slow, a ripple, then breaking all at once. Her body shook, her back arched, and she cried out his name like it was the only thing she remembered. Jude followed her over the edge, spilling inside her with a growl, his hands still wrapped tight around her hips, anchoring them both to something deeper than flesh.

When she collapsed on top of him, panting, they didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Her cheek rested against his, and he held her there as the island continued its quiet song around them.

Then, from the trees, came the sound of feet again.

Lighter this time.

Softer.

Jude lifted his head.

Sophie.

She hadn’t left. She hadn’t run. She stood just beyond the edge of the circle, dressed in a simple wrap of woven leaves and cotton, her hair braided, her expression unreadable. But she was there.

Watching.

Jude sat up, Zoey sliding from his lap to curl beside Lucy. He didn’t speak - he just waited.

Sophie walked forward, her bare feet silent on the moss. She moved like she had made peace with something, but hadn’t yet surrendered to it. Her eyes scanned the faces of the women - each one glowing, touched, claimed, loved. And then she looked at Jude.

"I said I’d never be part of something I didn’t choose," she said, her voice calm.

"You’re still choosing," he replied.

"I don’t want to be consumed."

"You won’t be. You’ll be multiplied."

Sophie exhaled. "Then show me."

The others didn’t move this time. They let her come to him. Let her take her place by the fire, slowly peeling away the layers of her wrap. Her skin was flushed, but not from shame. Her eyes never left his. She lowered herself to the moss, stretched on her side, and extended a hand.

"Come to me as you did to Rose," she whispered.

He did.

He crawled to her, kissed her fingers, her wrist, her throat. His mouth moved down her body like he was learning her all over again, reverent and slow. She moaned when his lips found her breast, when his tongue flicked over the peak, and again when his hand slid between her thighs and found her already aching.

"I’ve waited," she gasped.

"I know," he said. "Let me thank you for it."

He entered her slowly, letting her adjust, letting her pull him deeper with her legs wrapped tight around his back. She was tight, hot, perfect - her breath catching in his ear, her hands gripping his shoulders as if to hold herself together. Her hips rolled in time with his, the pressure building, the rhythm finding them both.

And when she came, it was like lightning.

She cried out, nails dragging across his back, eyes wide as the wave crashed through her. He followed, kissing her mouth as he released inside her, their bodies trembling together.

After, she held his face in both hands.

"I’m not afraid anymore," she whispered. "But I won’t let it take me without balance."

"Then we hold it together," he said. "You and me."

Sophie nodded. "And them."

They lay there in silence as the sun rose fully above them. The others gathered, no longer separate, no longer unsure. Twelve women. One man. One island breathing beneath them.

And above, in the trees, the golden eyes watched.

Satisfied.

The air was thick with aftermath - of heat, of breath, of something more ancient than touch. The moss under them seemed to pulse, no longer just a bed of earth but something aware, something that listened. Sophie’s skin still glowed faintly, and she lay curled against Jude’s side, her hand splayed over his chest like a sigil. She hadn’t changed in the way Rose had. She hadn’t taken the smile or the song. But there was something in her now - calm and accepting, yet still tethered to her fire.

Zoey moved first, rising slowly and brushing dew from her thighs. Her fingers lingered on Sophie’s shoulder as she passed, a silent acknowledgment, and then she leaned down to kiss Jude again. Just a breath against his lips. Then she whispered, "More are waking."

Jude sat up.

From the edge of the woods came the soft shuffle of feet, the rustle of leaves. Natalie appeared first - her eyes wide and golden-bright, her hair damp, tangled, beautiful. She didn’t speak. She just moved toward Lucy, who opened her arms like she’d been expecting her.

Then Emma stepped out behind her.

She looked shaken, tired, lips slightly parted. But her eyes locked on Jude and narrowed with concern, not submission.

"What happened?" she asked, voice rough. "I woke up alone."

Jude stood, stepping away from Sophie, brushing moss from his skin. "You didn’t wake up alone. You woke up after. We... crossed another line."

Emma’s jaw flexed. "And are we still ourselves?"

"More than ever," Sophie said softly, sitting up, her body still bare beneath the morning light. "I chose it. But I didn’t lose myself."

Emma looked from Sophie to Zoey, to Stella and Grace, now standing in matching wraps that shimmered with dew. "You all keep saying that."