None of us slept much. The growling came and went throughout the night — sometimes close enough to rattle the cabin walls, sometimes fading into the deep jungle. Whatever it was, it was big. And it was circling.
By dawn, the sounds had stopped. I didn't know if that meant it was gone or just waiting.
Either way, we couldn't afford to stay unarmed.
The yacht wreck was worse than I'd thought. Most of the hull had collapsed into the reef, waterlogged and rotting. But the cargo hold was still partially accessible.
Isaac and I waded through waist-deep water, searching in silence.
Neither of us had spoken since we left the cabin. The silence said everything.
I found a waterproof case wedged between twisted metal — the kind designed to survive exactly this. The seal had held. Inside: a Glock 9mm, dry and intact, and two boxes of ammunition.
The yacht's owner had been the paranoid type. Right now, I was grateful for it.
I checked the Glock's action. The magazine was full.
I held it out to Isaac. "You know how to use one of these?"
He took it without answering.
"Safety's on the left side," I said. "Don't shoot yourself."
His fingers closed around the grip. He didn't look at me.
I'd just armed a man who hated me. But if that thing from last night came back, I'd rather have two people with weapons than one.
We searched for another twenty minutes. Found a waterlogged first aid kit, a hunting knife with a rubber grip, and two flares that might still work.
No food. No radio. No way off this island.
"That's everything," I said, hauling the gear to shore. "Let's go."
Isaac hadn't moved. He was standing waist-deep in the water, staring at me.
"Something on your mind, Isaac?"
"I hate you," he said quietly.
I smiled. "Get used to it."
"You have Chloe," he continued, his voice shaking. "What the fuck do you need Lydia for?"
"Need?" I pulled the Glock from the case, checking the chamber. "I don't need her. I want her. Big difference."
"You—" He stopped, his jaw clenching. "You fucked her. Didn't you?"
I looked up at him, letting the silence stretch.
"Not yet," I said finally. "Just played with her pussy. Tasted her. Made her cum on my tongue while you were ten feet away, calling her name."
His face went red. "You son of a—"
"But I will fuck her," I continued, cutting him off. "Today, probably. And she's going to beg me for it."
"She wouldn't—"
"She already did, Isaac. She begged me not to stop. Begged me to make her cum. You heard her, didn't you? That little scream she tried to muffle?"
He was shaking. But not just with anger. Something else was happening — something he was desperately trying to hide.
"If you behave well, I can let you sit in the corner while I fuck her. Maybe I'll even let you clean up after."
His eyes widened—shock and sick arousal warring on his face.
"You're disgusting," he whispered.
"And you're thinking about it."
I walked past him, heading back toward shore.
He followed in silence.
But I'd seen the bulge in his pants.
---
When we got back to the cabin, Lydia was helping Martha prepare lunch. She looked up when I entered, and our eyes met.
She knew.
I could see it in the way her breath hitched, the way her pupils dilated, the way she unconsciously pressed her thighs together.
She knew what was about to happen.
"Lydia," I said. "Come here."
Martha stopped chopping. Chloe looked up from where she was sitting, a small smile playing on her lips.
Isaac stood in the doorway, frozen.
"Jack, I—" Lydia started.
"Now."
She put down the fruit she was holding, wiped her hands on her shorts, and walked toward me.
Her legs were shaking.
When she reached me, I took her hand.
"We need to talk," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Privately."
I led her toward the small room at the back of the cabin—the one with the actual door.
As we passed Isaac, I saw his hands ball into fists. Saw the moment he realized he was powerless to stop this.
Lydia glanced back at him once.
Then she followed me inside.
I closed the door behind us.
Didn't lock it.
I wanted them to hear.
---
The moment the door closed, Lydia backed away from me.
"Jack, we shouldn't—"
"We already did," I said, stepping toward her. "In the jungle. You, pinned against a tree. Your pussy dripping all over my tongue while Isaac called your name."
Her face flushed. "That was different. That was just—"
"Just what? Just you cumming harder than you ever have in your life?"
She had no answer.
"Take off your clothes," I said.
"Jack—"
"Lydia." I closed the distance between us, backing her against the wall. "You haven't stopped thinking about it."
Her breathing was ragged now.
"Take. Off. Your. Clothes."
Her hands trembled as she reached for the hem of her tank top.
She pulled it over her head slowly, revealing her bikini top underneath—the same one from yesterday.
"All of it," I said.
She unhooked the bikini top. Her tits spilled free—perfect handfuls, nipples already hard and begging to be sucked.
"Shorts too."
She shimmied out of her shorts and bikini bottoms, standing naked in front of me.
Fuck.
Her body was incredible. Tanned skin, toned stomach, hips that curved perfectly, thighs that I wanted wrapped around my waist. And that pussy—already glistening wet, swollen and ready.
"You're beautiful," I said, and meant it.
I stripped off my own clothes, and her eyes went wide when she saw my cock—thick, hard, already leaking pre-cum.
"That's... that's not going to fit," she whispered.
I smiled. "It will."
---
I pushed her back onto the bed—just a thin mattress on a wooden frame.
She spread her legs instinctively, and I positioned myself between them.
Slowly at first—she was tight, so fucking tight, and even though she was wet, her body resisted the intrusion.
"Oh god," she gasped, her hands flying to my shoulders. "Oh god, it's too much—"
"Breathe," I said, pushing deeper. "Relax and let me in."
"I can't—you're too big—"
I thrust harder, burying myself halfway.
She screamed.
"FUCK! JACK! OH MY GOD—"
Outside, I heard movement. Footsteps. Someone approaching the door.
I pulled back and thrust again, deeper this time, stretching her impossibly wide.
"It hurts," she sobbed. "It hurts but it feels so good—"
"That's because you were made for this," I growled, finally bottoming out inside her. "Made to take my cock."
She was shaking, her pussy clenching around me.
"You feel that?" I asked, grinding against her. "That's me, all the way inside you. Deeper than anyone's ever been."
"Yes," she gasped. "Oh god, yes—"
I started fucking her in earnest.
I didn't hold back.
I stopped being gentle.
"OH GOD! OH FUCK! JACK!" she screamed, her nails digging into my back.
Outside, I could hear voices — muffled, but clear enough.
Martha's voice, strained: "Oh my god..."
And Chloe, almost amused: "Told you he would."
And Isaac—silent, but I knew he was there. Listening to every sound.
"You like this?" I demanded, gripping Lydia's hips and angling her so I could go even deeper.
"YES! Oh god, yes, I love it—"
"Better than you imagined?"
"So much better—oh fuck, right there—"
I changed angles, hitting her G-spot with every thrust.
She came almost immediately, her pussy clamping down on me, her back arching off the bed.
"FUCK! I'M CUMMING! JACK, I'M—"
But I didn't stop.
I fucked her through her orgasm, through the oversensitivity, until she was sobbing and begging.
I flipped her over, pulling her onto her hands and knees.
"Ass up," I growled.
She obeyed, presenting herself to me.
I slammed back inside her from behind, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
This position let me go even deeper, and she felt it—screaming into the mattress as I pounded into her.
"Walking around in that little bikini every day," I growled, thrusting harder. "You wanted this. You've been begging for it without saying a word."
I felt my orgasm building.
"I'm going to cum inside you," I warned.
"No — not inside — please—"
I should have pulled out. I knew that. She'd asked me not to.
I didn't care.
I buried myself as deep as I could go and came—hard, thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy.
She came again at the feeling, her whole body convulsing.
When it was over, I stayed inside her, keeping my cum trapped.
"Don't move," I said.
She whimpered but obeyed.
---
When I finally pulled out, cum immediately started leaking from her well-fucked pussy, dripping down her thighs onto the sheets.
She collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, covered in sweat.
I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes were glazed, tears drying on her cheeks, but underneath the haze — underneath everything — she looked at me like I was the only real thing in the world.
Then the doorknob rattled.
Then the door slammed open.
---
Isaac stood in the doorway, the Glock from the yacht in his shaking hand.
Behind him, Martha gasped. Chloe moved toward Isaac — no fear on her face, just fury — but I held up a hand, stopping her.
"Get away from her," Isaac said, his voice breaking.
I looked at him, still naked, my cock still semi-hard, Lydia's cum and mine coating it.
"Put the gun down, Isaac."
"I said get the FUCK away from her!"
Lydia pulled the sheet up, covering herself, tears streaming down her face.
"Isaac, please—" she started.
"Shut up!" he screamed at her. "Just shut up! I heard you! I heard everything! You told him—you said—"
His hands were shaking so badly the gun was wavering.
He wasn't going to shoot.
He didn't have it in him.
But I couldn't take chances.
I moved fast—faster than he expected.
One step forward, grabbed his wrist, twisted hard.
The gun clattered to the floor.
Then I had him by the throat, slamming him against the wall.
"You pull a gun on me?" I said quietly, my face inches from his. "You threaten me in front of my women?"
"Your—your women?" he choked out.
"That's right." I tightened my grip slightly. "Chloe's mine. Lydia's mine. And if you pull something like this again, I won't just take her — I'll make sure you're close enough to hear every second of it. Every time."
He tried to nod.
"I said, do you understand?"
"Yes," he gasped.
I released him. He collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping.
I picked up the gun and checked the safety. Grabbed my sweatpants from the floor, pulled them on, and tucked the Glock into the waistband.
"Get out," I said.
He scrambled to his feet and ran.
I turned back to Lydia. She was staring at me, eyes wide—fear and awe and arousal all mixed together.
"Clean yourself up," I said. "We're not done yet."
She shivered.
But she nodded.
Martha stood in the hallway, her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with something I couldn't read — horror, maybe, or something more complicated.
Chloe was calm. Too calm. She looked at the gun in my waistband, then at me, and nodded once. Like this was always going to happen. Like she'd been waiting for someone to test me, just so she could watch me pass.
I turned back to Lydia.