Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women -
Chapter 1747
Chapter 1747: Chapter 1747
Jude felt something stir in his chest - a hum. A rhythm.
He looked at the sanctuary. It pulsed with the same beat as his heart.
Lucy came beside him, her skin still glowing. "We’re not visitors anymore."
"No," Sophie said, stepping forward and curling her fingers around his. "We’re the roots."
Rose leaned into him from the other side, her voice low and certain. "And this is where we grow."
They turned together, facing the heart of the sanctuary. The golden floor beneath them shivered like liquid, then formed a bed of moss, soft and inviting.
The light dimmed.
Not into darkness.
Into intimacy.
Lucy pulled Jude down first, straddling him with a grin that softened quickly into reverence. Her lips met his, not hungry, but deep. She moved slowly, her body sinking onto his like a prayer. Her breath was a whisper against his skin. "Let me be your anchor."
He gripped her hips and groaned, his heart racing with more than lust - devotion.
When she shuddered above him, the whole temple pulsed.
Then Rose came behind her, kissing her shoulder, sliding against her back. Her lips brushed Lucy’s neck, her hands covering her breasts, and she whispered, "Now feel what it is to be fire."
Lucy cried out, trembling between them.
Sophie knelt before Jude, her mouth finding his, her fingers between Lucy’s thighs. "I’ve always been the question," she said. "But I think I’ve found my answer."
The sanctuary glowed brighter.
Their rhythm deepened.
It was more than pleasure. More than sex.
It was bond.
It was eternity.
And as their bodies moved together - giving, receiving, trembling - the temple became theirs. The island accepted them again. This time not as initiates.
But as its pulse.
As its future.
And when the climax came, shared and raw and sacred, the dome above them flared open -
revealing the stars not as distant watchers,
but as reflections of themselves.
They had become the island’s heart.
Their bodies lay tangled in silence, skin gleaming with the fading pulse of golden light, breath slowly returning to rhythm. Jude held Lucy close, her head pressed to his chest, her fingers still twitching with the last echoes of ecstasy. Rose curled along his side, tracing lazy spirals along his abdomen, her face softer than he had ever seen it. Sophie straddled his thigh, chin resting on his shoulder, eyes half-lidded but watching him with a tenderness that brimmed with something deeper than words - devotion. Around them, the sanctuary breathed with them, the moss beneath like a warm heartbeat, the walls whispering with energy that wasn’t sound, but feeling.
Jude didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The women around him moved only when moved by each other, by him, by something ancient and electric that now seemed to live inside all of them. This place - the temple, the sanctuary, whatever it was - had fused them with something far greater than just earth or spirit.
"It’s not over," Rose murmured, voice low against his neck.
Sophie nodded, curling her fingers around his wrist. "No. This is only the beginning."
Lucy shifted, lifting her head. Her eyes caught the dome overhead - now no longer a ceiling, but an open sky full of stars that shimmered in response to their breath. "What happens now, Jude?"
He swallowed, his voice low and still uncertain. "I think... we become what the island dreamed of."
Rose lifted her head and looked at the stars. "No," she said. "We dream it into something more."
From the outer edge of the sanctuary, the others arrived. Grace and Stella hand in hand, their bodies still glowing. Zoey and Natalie wrapped in each other’s arms, cheeks flushed and hair wild. Emma, hesitant but drawn, and Susan behind her, shoulders straight and eyes wide. And Scarlet, trailing her fingers along the walls, humming under her breath as though she heard music only she could decipher.
The circle widened again.
Emma paused at the edge of the moss. "Is it safe?"
Lucy turned, her voice pure and warm. "Yes."
Susan stepped forward without hesitation. "It’s not about safety anymore. It’s about surrender."
The others joined, forming a ring around Jude and the three women already wrapped around him. No words. No plan. Just presence. Their bodies lowered slowly to the moss again - Grace kissing Sophie’s shoulder as she knelt beside her, Stella brushing her lips across Lucy’s knee, Emma folding herself into Jude’s side as if her bones had longed for it all this time. Natalie and Zoey settled at his feet, like twin flames waiting to ignite.
Jude’s breath caught as he sat up in their center again, their heat gathering around him. Twelve women, each connected by light, love, longing - and him. He wasn’t overwhelmed anymore. He was open. Ready.
He reached for Scarlet, who stood at the last edge of the circle, her body tense with restraint.
She hesitated.
And then she stepped into the circle, dropping to her knees, her hands on his thighs.
"Guide me," she whispered.
He did.
One kiss at a time.
He started with Lucy, his lips tracing the line of her collarbone. Then Sophie, whose breath caught like a song breaking. Rose welcomed him into her mouth like a slow fire, her fingers curling into his hair, anchoring them both.
They moved together again - not rushed, not urgent - but deliberate.
Like priests performing a rite older than gods.
His body was shared, his hands always touching someone, his lips never far from skin. Each woman was worshipped - kissed, entered, devoured - until she shivered and bloomed beneath him. They took turns, they joined in twos, in threes. They whispered to each other between moans, kissed one another while he filled them, and let him watch as they explored each other with the same reverence they gave him.
It was not about ownership. It never had been.
It was about connection.
And connection had never tasted so divine.
The sanctuary pulsed.
Every climax sent a golden light into the air.
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