Lydia followed me deeper into the jungle, my hand wrapped around her wrist.
I found a small clearing surrounded by thick vegetation, private enough that no one would stumble across us unless they were looking.
"Jack—" Lydia started, her voice trembling.
"Take off your bikini bottoms," I said, leaning back against a tree trunk.
Her eyes went wide. "What? No, I can't—"
"What do you mean, no?" I was already hard — painfully hard. The image of her coming apart on my tongue was the only thing in my head.
"Take them off," I said, "or I'll rip them off. Your choice."
She stared at me for a long moment, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her nipples were hard beneath her bikini top, poking through the thin fabric. Then, slowly, her hands moved to the ties at her hips.
The bikini bottoms fell to the jungle floor.
"Good girl," I said, my voice low. "Now spread your legs."
"Jack, please—" Her voice cracked. "I'm not that kind of girl."
I slapped her ass — hard. The flesh rippled under my hand, and the sound cracked through the clearing. Fuck, she had an incredible ass. I was going to ruin her.
"Not that kind of girl? Your pussy's dripping down your thighs, Lydia. Your body already told me exactly what kind of girl you are."
She bit her lip, refusing to meet my eyes. But she didn't deny it.
I closed the distance between us, backing her against a broad palm tree. My hand slid between her thighs—she was absolutely soaked, her pussy dripping wet.
"Fuck, Lydia," I groaned, sliding two fingers through her folds. "You're a good little liar, aren't you? 'I'm not that kind of girl' — but this pussy's begging me to prove you wrong."
"I... I don't..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "God, what am I even doing?"
"So Isaac's really just a friend?" I asked, circling her clit with my thumb. "Nothing more?"
"Isaac doesn't—" she gasped. "He's nothing. He's not—oh god—"
I pressed my thumb harder against her clit, rubbing in tight circles.
"We're just—oh god—just friends." Her tits were bouncing with every heaving breath, barely contained by the bikini top.
"Good." I dropped to my knees in front of her, gripping her thighs and spreading them wider. "This pussy is mine now."
I didn't give her time to respond. I leaned in and dragged my tongue slowly through her folds, tasting her for the first time.
She tasted sweet — almost like coconut. Three weeks stranded and she still took care of herself. I respected that. And I was going to reward it.
"Oh fuck!" Lydia gasped, her hands flying to my hair.
I didn't tease. I shoved my tongue as deep into her pussy as it would go, fucking her with it—rough, relentless.
"OH FUCK!" she screamed, her back arching violently.
I gripped her ass with both hands, pulling her harder against my face. My tongue speared in and out, hitting spots that made her legs shake.
"Jack—stop—we can't—" she gasped, but her hands were tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, not pushing away.
I murmured against her pussy, "but your hips are fucking my face."
"I don't—oh god—I can't help it—"
I sealed my lips around her swollen clit and sucked hard.
Her whole body jerked, a sob tearing from her throat.
"I hate this," she gasped, tears forming in her eyes. "I hate that I need—"
"Beg me to make you come," I demanded, pulling back to thrust three fingers deep into her pussy.
"OH GOD—"
"Say it, Lydia."
"Please make me cum," she sobbed, shame flooding her face even as her hips ground down on my fingers. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but please don't stop."
"Good girl," I growled, and dove back in.
I finger-fucked her brutally while my tongue attacked her clit—rapid flicks, hard sucks, teeth grazing just enough to ride the edge between pleasure and pain. The sounds were obscene: wet squelching, her desperate moans, my groans of satisfaction.
"Jack—Jack—oh god—I'm close—"
I added a fourth finger.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream as I stretched her wider than she'd ever been.
"Too much!" she gasped. "It's too much, I can't—"
"Too much?" I pressed my thumb against her asshole — not pushing in, just resting there. Letting her feel the pressure. "You don't even know what too much is yet."
I curled my fingers, finding that rough spot inside her—her G-spot—and hammered against it while I sucked her clit into my mouth.
"FUCK! JACK! OH GOD, I'M GONNA—"
"LYDIA!"
Isaac's voice, distant but clear.
She froze, her eyes going wide with terror. "Oh god. Oh god, Jack, stop—he's out there—"
I looked up at her, my fingers still buried in her pussy. "Then you better stay quiet."
"LYDIA! WHERE ARE YOU?"
Closer now. Maybe thirty feet away.
"Answer him," I whispered.
"I can't—if I try to talk, I'll—"
I curled my fingers hard against her G-spot.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
"Answer him," I repeated, "or I'll make you scream my name while you cum on my tongue."
I sealed my lips around her clit and sucked brutally hard.
"I'M FINE!" she gasped out, her voice strangled. "JUST—JUST WALKING!"
"You sound weird! Are you okay?"
I thrust my fingers harder, faster. She was right on the edge.
"I'm—oh god—I'm FINE!" she sobbed, her hand clamping over her mouth.
"Where are you? I can't see you!"
I pulled back just enough to whisper: "If you cum right now, he'll hear you. He'll know exactly what you're doing."
"Please," she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. "Please stop, I can't hold it—"
"Then don't."
I sucked her clit into my mouth and pulled—hard.
She came.
Her hand muffled most of the scream, but not all of it. A high, broken sound escaped—unmistakably sexual.
"Lydia?!" Isaac's voice was sharp.
I didn't stop. I licked her through every wave while she sobbed silently, terrified he'd find us.
Isaac's footsteps crashed closer. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten.
The footsteps stopped.
Silence.
Finally: "...If you're okay, just... come back soon. the jungle is not safe."
His footsteps retreated.
The moment he was gone, Lydia collapsed, her legs giving out completely. I caught her, holding her up while she shook.
"Oh my god," she gasped. "I came while he was right there—"
I slowly pulled my fingers out—absolutely soaked, glistening with her arousal.
"Open," I said, bringing them to her mouth.
She hesitated, then parted her lips. I slid my fingers into her mouth, and she moaned as she tasted herself for the first time.
"That's what you taste like when you're properly fucked," I murmured, pulling my fingers out. "Remember that."
I stood, and she saw my face—completely covered in her arousal.
I slapped her ass — harder this time. She yelped.
"Isaac's been sniffing around you since day one," I said. "That's over now. You understand?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Good girl."
---
We emerged from the jungle five minutes later. Isaac rushed over, his eyes immediately locking on Lydia's appearance—flushed face, messy hair, unsteady legs.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Lydia said, her voice hoarse. "I just... got dizzy. The heat."
"The heat," Isaac repeated flatly, his gaze flicking to me.
His eyes dropped to my mouth—I hadn't wiped it completely. There was still a sheen on my chin.
He knew.
"Stay away from her," he said quietly, stepping toward me.
Lydia snatched her hand away when he tried to grab it. "Isaac, stop. I'm fine."
"You're not fine—"
"I said I'm FINE!"
She walked past him toward the cabin, her legs still unsteady.
Isaac turned back to me, his hands balled into fists.
"You son of a bitch," he whispered.
I smiled and walked past him, my cock still visibly hard through my sweatpants.
---
Inside the cabin, Martha looked up when I entered, her eyes immediately dropping to the obvious tent in my sweatpants.
Her breath caught.
"Jack, what took you so long?" she asked, her voice strained.
"Just getting some fresh air," I said, sitting down and spreading my legs. "The jungle's very... stimulating."
Before she could respond, Lydia stumbled in, followed by Isaac.
Martha's eyes took in every detail—Lydia's disheveled hair, flushed face, the wobble in her legs, her askew bikini top.
Martha's gaze flicked to me, then back to Lydia. I saw the exact moment she realized what had happened.
Her jaw clenched. Her nipples hardened beneath her tank top.
She was jealous. And turned on.
Chloe was sitting in the corner, watching the whole scene with quiet amusement — Lydia's state, Martha's tension, Isaac's fury.
A sound cut through the tension — a low, rumbling growl from the jungle.
Everyone froze.
"What the fuck was that?" Chloe whispered, the amusement gone from her face.
Another growl, closer. Then snorting, grunting, heavy footfalls.
"Get inside, everybody," I said calmly. "Now."
We backed into the cabin.
"We need weapons," Isaac said. "We need to defend ourselves."
"The yacht wreck," I said. "There might be something in the cargo. We check it tomorrow at dawn. You're coming with me."
"Why me?"
"Because I need someone who can carry supplies," I said. "And you're the only other man here."
He stared at me, suspicion and fear on his face.
But he nodded.