Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

They climbed in silence, the golden mist parting gently around their bodies like a veil of breath, a living curtain that shimmered as if infused with the same light that pulsed beneath their skin.

The steps were wide and smooth, carved not from stone but from dense woven roots, each one supporting their weight without a sound, like the island itself was lifting them with every stride.

Jude led, his body warm with the memory of the joining, the taste of Rose still on his lips, the scent of Lucy's hair lingering in his senses. Behind him, the others moved like a single breathtwelve hearts beating in time with his, twelve bodies bound to his own not through chains but through choice, through passion, through something deeper than even the island could name.

The higher they went, the warmer the air becamenot oppressive, not heavy, but close. Intimate. Like breath against a lover's neck. The mist thickened for a moment, and then just as quickly peeled back, revealing a wide, circular platform suspended high in the canopy. Here, the trees bent to cradle the edges of the platform, their branches arching inward like a protective embrace. Flowers bloomed in spirals across the moss-covered floor, glowing softly beneath their feet.

And at the center, a throne.

Not regal. Not cold. But alivegrown from wood and vine and bone, its back curled like a blooming flower, its seat plush with layered moss, its arms wide and waiting. Around it, twelve smaller seats had formed, low to the ground, nestled into the moss as if they had always existed, waiting for the right bodies to claim them.

Jude hesitated at the top of the stairs. "It's a council."

Rose stepped beside him, her fingers brushing his. "It's home."

Emma circled the throne, eyes narrowed, analyzing. "This wasn't here before."

"No," Sophie said softly, her hand trailing along a flowering branch, "but it's been growing since the moment we accepted the change."

Susan knelt at one of the seats and sank into it with a sigh, the moss molding perfectly to her curves. "It's warm."

Natalie sat beside her, draping an arm across her lap. "It knows us."

Zoey walked behind Jude, her hand slipping beneath his arm, fingers sliding over his chest. "Go on," she whispered. "Sit."

He stepped forward, one slow pace at a time, every movement watched not with judgment but with desire, with awe. When he finally lowered himself into the living throne, it sighed beneath hima breath of approval, of hunger satisfied. Vines curled slowly around his thighs, his arms, not binding but cradling. A deep pulse resonated beneath him, rising from the roots into his spine, and he exhaled like he had been holding that breath since the moment the island first whispered his name.

The others sat too, forming a ring around him, their positions natural, fluid, perfect. Rose to his right, Lucy to his left. Stella and Grace on either side of them, then Emma and Natalie, Zoey and Susan, Sophie and Scarlet, and finally, Layla and Serena, their bare legs intertwined, their bodies glowing faintly in the golden haze.

From the sky above, a soft rain began to fall.

Not cold. Not wet.

Golden.

Light in liquid form, washing over them with warmth and touch and scentsweet as fruit, hot as desire. Jude tilted his face upward, his lips parting to drink it in, and when the droplets touched his tongue, he moaned.

It tasted like every kiss he'd ever craved.

Lucy crawled to his lap and straddled him, her body slick with golden light, her hands gentle as they cradled his jaw. "The island wants more."

His hands slid to her hips. "So do I."

She kissed him slow and deep, her mouth opening over his, her tongue tangling with his in a lazy, intimate rhythm. The rain soaked them both, making their skin shine, every movement illuminated in divine gold. Her body pressed to his, her breasts flattening against his chest as she rocked her hips forward, grinding against him with a hungry patience.

Around them, the others stirred.

Not with jealousy, but with heat.

With love.

With want.

Stella and Grace moved toward each other, their mouths meeting in open-mouthed hunger. Emma pulled Natalie onto her lap, kissing the crook of her neck, her hands wandering down between parted thighs. Zoey was already on her knees before Susan, her tongue teasing a path along the inside of her thigh, her hands gripping her waist as Susan's head fell back in a shuddering gasp.

And Judehe was inside Lucy now, her heat swallowing him whole, her body pulsing around him as she began to move. She rode him slow, with reverence, every downward thrust a prayer, every rise a surrender. Her hands threaded through his hair, her forehead pressed to his, and when she came, it wasn't a cry. It was a declaration.

"I love you," she whispered, again and again.

He held her as she trembled, then kissed her as she faded against him, her breath still catching, her heart still racing.

Rose stood from her seat and walked to him next.

Her body glowed brighter than before, her hair wet with golden mist, her lips curved in a smile that promised ruin and salvation.

"Let me feel it too," she said.

He pulled her close.

And she mounted him, taking his still-hard length with a gasp and a moan that echoed through the canopy. Her pace was different than Lucy'sfierce, hungry, deep. She rode him with power, with need, with a demand that made the throne shudder beneath them. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin, meeting each thrust with a force that sent her over quickly, her cry sharp and raw, her orgasm blooming like lightning through the golden storm.

As she collapsed into his arms, Grace and Stella approached next.

Then Sophie.

Then Emma.

One after another, they came to him.

Offered themselves.

Loved him.

And he loved them in returnfully, completely, without hesitation or restraint.