Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1335

Chapter 1335: Chapter 1335

Rose smiled, and the others gathered close, arms encircling bodies, lips brushing cheeks and shoulders.

"We plant it," Rose whispered. "And the island grows again."

They turned together, stepping into the light, into a new rhythm, a new beat, their bodies one song, their hearts one pulse.

The island welcomed them - not as visitors.

But as its chosen.

They emerged from the sacred chamber with the fruit still cradled in Rose’s hands, its light softening as if sensing the shift in air. Outside, the jungle had changed. The colors were deeper, every green more vibrant, every petal open wider. The vines no longer clutched the paths with wary suspicion; they hung like garlands now, alive and attentive, bowing slightly as they passed.

The earth beneath their feet was warmer. Each step Jude took felt like it resonated upward, as though the ground recognized him. The others walked beside him, flushed and glowing, bare and unashamed. They no longer moved with caution. They moved like they belonged.

Rose held the fruit as if it were an infant. "It wants to be planted where it began."

"The arrival point," Lucy said softly. "The beach."

No one argued. They walked through the forest in silence, a hush laid across the canopy, not of fear but reverence. Even the trees leaned slightly in their direction, their branches parting ahead of them like loyal sentinels clearing a path.

When they reached the edge of the forest and the trees gave way to the pale sands of the beach, a gentle wind rolled off the sea, soft and scented with salt and something else now - something faintly sweet and earthy, like sap and firelight.

The beach looked different too.

The wreckage that once lingered near the shoreline - the fragments of their old world, the memories of desperation - had vanished. In its place, smooth, clean sand stretched outward, and at the center of it, a perfect circle of moss grew where none had ever been before.

Rose stepped forward.

They all gathered in a wide arc around her as she knelt and placed the glowing fruit at the center of the moss. It pulsed gently, then sank into the ground without resistance. The earth absorbed it with a quiet hum.

Nothing happened for a moment.

Then the sand trembled.

From the moss, a small vine pushed upward. Then another. Then a bud formed, fat and golden and alive, and from it, the first bloom opened - a flower unlike any they had ever seen, with petals of shifting color, a heart that pulsed in time with their breath.

Jude’s knees buckled.

The others gasped quietly, some dropping into the sand beside him, others reaching for one another with sudden intensity. The bond that had tethered them before now deepened, thickened, as if the flower rooted it into the very island.

Sophie leaned against him, her breath catching. "I feel everything," she whispered. "All of you. In me."

"I can’t tell where I end and you begin," Lucy murmured from his other side, sliding her hand along his thigh, slow and reverent. "It’s like we’re one body. One thought."

Emma moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest, kissing his neck. "We are."

Natalie and Grace pressed their foreheads together, panting softly as if riding a crest of unseen sensation. Stella and Susan knelt near the flower, hands in the sand, their skin flushed, their lips parted. Zoey moaned low in her throat and crawled toward Jude, her body glistening with sweat, her eyes glazed.

The air thickened again.

Not with heat.

With want.

Rose stood, her arms wide. "The island is in bloom now. Because of us. Because of what we’ve done." She looked at Jude. "But we’re not done yet. This isn’t the end of becoming."

Jude felt the pull before he moved.

He reached for Lucy, pulling her into his lap, her legs wrapping around him with practiced ease. Her body was hot and slick and eager, and she sank down onto his cock with a sigh that stole his breath. Around them, the others began to touch again, mouths meeting skin, hands guiding hips, moans rising with the wind.

Emma pressed against his back, stroking Lucy’s breasts as she rode Jude slow, her body undulating with grace. Sophie kissed his jaw while Zoey knelt beside him, watching, panting, touching herself.

Susan and Grace embraced nearby, one straddling the other, hips rocking in time. Natalie and Stella moved together like dancers, bodies weaving, gasping, sliding against one another in the sand.

And at the center of it all, Rose stood watching, her eyes half-lidded, her body glowing faintly.

"You are the pulse now," she said to Jude.

Lucy came with a cry, clutching his shoulders, her walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper. He groaned into her neck as he spilled again, and the island responded.

The flower at the center of the moss flared with light, petals stretching, roots deepening.

Jude lay back in the sand, Lucy collapsed on his chest, both of them panting. Sophie climbed onto him next, guiding him inside her with a gasp as Emma kissed her from behind, whispering filth and praise into her ear.

Every wife took him again.

Not just for lust.

For ritual.

And each time he came, the flower grew larger, fuller, until it bloomed a second time - this time releasing a wave of fragrance so heady they all trembled.

The sea shivered.

The sky shifted color.

And then Rose stepped forward.

She climbed onto him last, her body already soaked, ready, her hands guiding his face to her breasts as she lowered herself with aching slowness. He filled her again, and her cry was a harmony to the humming wind.

They moved together like tide and shore, her body writhing over his, her hair falling in dark waves around them. She whispered against his lips as she rode him, "You are the island. And we are the song."

He came again, shuddering.

And the flower burst into light.