Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1572

Chapter 1572: Chapter 1572

Jude felt it before he saw it, the subtle pull in the roots, the faint void in the air. He sat up carefully, untangling himself with reverence. Lucy stirred but didn’t wake, only sighed and rolled deeper into the moss.

He stepped out into the clearing, the structure behind him sighing open to let him pass. The island was awake - vivid, breathing, a living tapestry of gold and green and violet. Trees shimmered in the light. Vines hung like whispers. The air was filled with the low hum of life, a constant murmur of something watching, waiting, pleased.

He found her near the base of the heart-tree.

Rose stood barefoot in the moss, arms wrapped around her body, her hair cascading down her back like a living flame. She didn’t turn when he approached, but he knew she felt him.

"You’re different," she said quietly.

"So are you."

She turned then, and he saw it - her eyes gleaming with something deeper than light. Not just transformation. Not just power. But memory. Awareness.

"I saw it again in my dreams," she murmured. "Alara. The Blooming One. She showed me things I didn’t understand before. Not just about this place. About us."

Jude stepped closer, reaching for her hand. She let him take it.

"She said we weren’t the first," Rose whispered. "That there were others long before. Lovers. Tribes. Entire civilizations that lived and bloomed here, just like we are. But they chose to return to the island. To become part of it forever."

"She said we would guide the next," Jude said. "That we’re the roots now."

"She also said we could choose," Rose said, looking up at him. "To stay. To fade. Or to evolve."

A soft breeze stirred the petals at their feet. The heart-tree pulsed gently behind them.

"I don’t want to fade," she said.

"You won’t," he promised. "None of us will."

She stepped into his arms then, resting her forehead against his. Her breath brushed his lips, warm and intimate.

"Do you feel it?" she asked. "Even now?"

He nodded. "It never stopped."

And then he kissed her - slow and deep, not like the fire they’d shared before, but like an ember rekindling into something ancient and infinite. Her fingers curled in his hair, her body melting into his, and the island exhaled with them.

They made love beneath the tree, slowly, wordlessly. His hands mapped the curves of her body like tracing constellations he already knew. Her hips rolled into his with the practiced ease of memory. Every thrust was a promise. Every moan a vow. When she came, her cry was swallowed by the leaves, and when he followed, it was like the world folded into light.

After, they lay in the moss, skin damp and glowing.

"Do you think the others felt it?" she asked lazily.

"They always do."

And indeed, they had.

Back in the sanctuary, Lucy blinked awake, lips parting with a silent gasp as heat rushed through her belly. Beside her, Emma shivered, eyes fluttering open. Natalie moaned softly in her sleep, pressing closer to Susan, whose body had already begun to arch into hers. Zoey rolled onto her back, hips twitching, while Grace curled into her side, breath trembling.

Sophie’s eyes opened sharp and clear.

"It’s him," she whispered.

Stella, awake now too, smiled darkly. "He’s feeling . And so are we."

The sanctuary filled with soft sounds - kisses, gasps, fingers exploring lazy, teasing paths. No urgency. Just connection. Grace pressed her lips to Zoey’s shoulder as she slid a thigh between her legs. Susan murmured Natalie’s name against her throat. Scarlet arched into Stella’s hand, biting her lip to hold in the whimper. Emma pulled Lucy closer, tongue tracing the edge of her ear as she whispered, "I want to be inside you when he walks back through that door."

And Sophie?

She sat on her knees in the center of the room, golden light curling around her limbs like tendrils of flame. She waited.

When Jude returned, Rose beside him, their skin glowing with recent intimacy, the others rose to meet them like flowers to sunlight.

Lucy was first to reach him, her kiss heated and impatient.

Emma followed, sliding behind him, her arms wrapping around his chest, her breath teasing his neck.

Zoey ran her fingers along his stomach. "You didn’t think we’d just sleep, did you?"

"I didn’t want to wake you," he whispered.

"You did anyway," Grace said with a giggle.

They moved together again - this time in the center of their home, the moss welcoming, the light tender. It wasn’t wild like the night before, nor sacred like the rituals. It was real. Simple. Intimate.

Susan and Natalie took him first, one guiding his mouth, the other sliding onto his lap with slow, aching need. When they finished, Jude didn’t rest - he reached for Sophie.

She didn’t come easily. She stared at him, wary, unsure. But when he held out his hand, she took it.

Their kiss was fire and hesitation. Her body shook against him, but when he entered her, her gasp was pure surrender. She clung to him as if daring him to break her - and he didn’t. He held her through every shiver, every thrust, until she came undone in his arms.

After that, she didn’t let go.

Stella and Scarlet took him next - together, mouths and hands everywhere, teasing, coaxing, controlling. He let them. Gave himself freely. When Stella came, her scream echoed against the ceiling, and Scarlet cried out his name like a hymn.

Emma didn’t wait. She rode him hard, fast, her hands gripping his shoulders, sweat beading between her breasts. Her release came in waves, her thighs trembling against his hips, her lips clinging to his in desperate kisses.

Lucy came last. She waited, quiet and glowing, until he was spent, then pulled him into her lap and cradled him, guiding him into her slowly, her body rocking gently until his gasps returned.

"Do you feel it?" she whispered.