Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1578

Chapter 1578: Chapter 1578

The rest of the women appeared around him then, emerging from the edges of the circle like the rising sun. Lucy came first, her golden gaze warm and welcoming. Grace and Stella flanked her, draped in pale cloth, hair loose. Zoey and Scarlet walked together, hips swaying, their bodies marked with faint traces of last night’s ritual still glowing on their thighs.

Natalie carried a cup of fruit and water, which she extended to the newcomers with a small, knowing smile. "Eat. Drink. You’ll need your strength."

The woman took it with trembling hands. The man hesitated, then accepted a slice of fruit, biting into it slowly. His pupils dilated.

"It tastes like..." he began, but didn’t finish. Instead, he gasped - soft and deep - and swayed slightly. Lucy was there in an instant, her hand on his chest, steadying him.

"It remembers you," she said softly. "You’re already changing."

Emma watched from the stone archway, arms folded, ever the sentinel. "They made it through. The island let them in."

Rose stepped behind Jude and curled a hand around his hip, her voice rich and quiet against his ear. "And more are coming. I saw them last night."

Jude looked to the sky, where the clouds spun in lazy circles of amber and white. "Then we need to be ready."

Susan led the newcomers to the mossy edge of the circle and sat with them, asking nothing. Just listening, smiling, touching their hands when needed. The woman leaned into her almost immediately, as if her presence offered something deeper than comfort - permission.

Jude stepped back into the circle as Rose moved to his side. "The Gate works."

Rose nodded. "It only lets in those who dream true."

Sophie approached him now, her body wrapped in sheer white, her eyes sharp and calm. "They’re not ready for what we are."

"They don’t have to be," he said. "They just have to want to learn."

Lucy came to his other side and kissed his cheek. "Then let’s teach them."

The rest of the day was spent in gentle silence. They fed the newcomers. They washed their feet with water from the glowing river and offered them soft cloth to wear. Grace braided the woman’s hair while Natalie helped the man wash the salt from his skin. Neither of them resisted. They were too captivated. Too open.

By twilight, the couple sat with the circle around the fire. Zoey told them stories - not of the island, but of transformation. Of letting go. Of release. Scarlet sat in the man’s lap for a time, playful but kind, testing him with soft brushes of her fingers. He blushed, but did not flinch.

"We used to be afraid too," she whispered, leaning in close. "Until we stopped asking what it meant and just started feeling."

As night fell, the women stood and began to move - not away, but around. A slow dance, their bodies weaving through the air like silk, their steps light on the moss. Jude watched as the newcomers stared in awe. It wasn’t sexual - not yet. But it was intimate . Every movement was an offering.

Emma beckoned the woman forward. "Dance with us."

She rose hesitantly, but joined them. Grace took her hands, Lucy guided her hips. Her laugh - uncertain, trembling - broke the stillness like a promise. The man sat still, lips parted, eyes wide as he watched her body soften into the rhythm.

Then Zoey extended her hand to him. "You too."

He hesitated.

But he stood.

And the circle grew.

They danced until sweat shimmered on their skin, until breath came in long, slow gasps, until the island hummed with shared pleasure.

And then Jude kissed the woman.

Not out of lust.

Out of welcome.

Her body trembled, but her hands found his chest. And when she kissed him back, the Gate stones pulsed again.

Rose kissed the man, her lips lingering on his throat. Sophie held his hand. Lucy curled against his back. They moved together, slowly guiding him down to the moss, where the woman already lay, her chest rising and falling fast.

Jude lay beside her.

He didn’t lead.

He waited.

And when she touched his face, he kissed her again. Her moan was soft. Her body curled into his. And then, slowly, she invited him inside her.

The others did not leave.

They surrounded.

Caressed.

Kissed her cheeks, her thighs, her stomach.

Touched the man.

Warmed him.

Guided him.

It was not orgy.

It was initiation .

Bodies met with reverence, with invitation, with heat building like fire in wet wood. The man entered Emma at Zoey’s urging. She whispered to him, held his shoulders, guided his breath.

The woman sobbed softly when Jude held her tighter, his mouth on her breast, her body shuddering beneath him.

Pleasure built.

Not selfish.

Not desperate.

But endless.

A wave that passed from one body to another. Scarlet gasped into Grace’s mouth. Stella cried out with Sophie’s hand inside her. Susan rode Rose’s thigh with quiet intensity. And through it all, the newcomers trembled, opened, burned.

When it broke - when the wave crested and flooded them all in heat and moan and release - the Gate stones flared golden white.

And stayed glowing.

Even when it ended.

The man wept softly in Emma’s arms.

The woman clung to Lucy, whispering, "I didn’t know\... I didn’t know this could be love."

Jude kissed her forehead. "It is. And more."

They curled around each other again. No one claimed anyone. No one asked questions. There were only sighs, lips pressed to skin, fingers tangled with hair.

Sleep took them slowly, golden and warm.

And when dawn came, Jude was already standing at the edge of the clearing, watching the trees.

Because he could feel them now.

More footsteps.

More hearts.

More dreamers, waking.

Coming.

And the island whispered, softly, with deep joy.

Let them in.

They arrived at dawn, just as the dew clung thick to the moss and the golden mist hovered low between the trees.