Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1341

Chapter 1341: Chapter 1341

Because the double heartbeat... was no longer just in his chest.

It echoed in the roots. In the sea. In every woman’s touch.

Jude had become the thirteenth bloom.

And the island had only just begun to sing.

The temple breathed.

Not metaphorically - truly. Beneath their bodies, the altar rose and fell in the slightest rhythm, as if the earth itself now inhaled through Jude’s lungs. The vines overhead unfurled fully, laying themselves across the ceiling like the petals of some vast flower blooming in worship. The new basin, glowing with that small, pulsing spark, remained quiet - but its presence charged the air with something fierce and raw.

Jude lay still in Lucy’s arms, Sophie curled against his chest. Their bodies were slick with sweat and glowing softly from the ritual, but his heart... his heart felt hollowed out and filled at once. Like something enormous had moved into him and made room by stretching every edge of who he thought he was.

And the others... oh, the others felt it too.

Zoey sat closest to the new basin, her hand over her belly as if sensing something inside herself. Stella was kissing Grace slowly under the pale golden light, their fingers laced, their thighs brushing. Natalie knelt with her eyes closed and arms raised like she was praying - not with desperation, but with devotion.

Emma walked slowly around Jude, pausing to trail a hand across his chest.

"You’ve changed," she whispered, her voice husky with awe.

"I feel it," he said, breath catching. "I don’t even know what I am anymore."

Rose knelt beside him, her eyes full of heat and depth. "You’re ours."

Jude met her gaze. "Is that all I am now?"

She leaned in, brushing her lips to his. "No. You’re also his. "

Jude froze. "Whose?"

Rose reached down and gently touched the small basin’s edge. The spark inside flared faintly, beating once. It wasn’t strong. But it was undeniable.

"You seeded the island," she whispered. "And it seeded you in return."

The silence that followed wasn’t fear. It was reverence.

Because they all understood.

This wasn’t pregnancy. It wasn’t biology. It wasn’t anything human could explain. This spark... it had formed through ritual, through love, through their surrender to something ancient and unknown.

And it had chosen Jude to carry it.

Not just in body, but in soul.

Lucy slid her hand down his side, resting it over his heart. "You’re not alone in it," she said, voice trembling with emotion. "Whatever it becomes... we’ll all carry it with you."

He looked around the circle. His wives. His lovers. His keepers. And now, his worshippers and fellow worshipped. They had become something sacred together. They had opened something they couldn’t close.

But there was no fear in that.

Only wonder.

And desire.

The temple grew warmer. The vines pulsed again. The coral shimmered as if awakening. And slowly, as if following some instinct older than language, the women approached him - one by one.

Zoey came first, straddling his waist, her body already slick and ready. She lowered herself onto him without hesitation, moaning into his mouth as she moved. She rocked in slow, aching circles, the rhythm not frantic but deliberate. Worshipful.

Emma kissed his neck, murmuring encouragement. Grace stroked his thighs, her touch feather-soft. Susan bit his ear and whispered, "You’re not just a man anymore, Jude. You’re the pulse. "

He groaned into Zoey’s breast as she rode him faster, crying out when she came, her back arching, her fingernails digging into his chest. She collapsed forward with a shuddering breath, still grinding slowly until her body gave out.

Next was Grace. Sweet, warm Grace. She kissed him like he was fragile, but rode him like she couldn’t survive without him. Her moans were soft and desperate, and she wept when she climaxed, whispering his name like a prayer against his lips.

Then came Stella - wild and untamed. She climbed onto him in a rush of tangled hair and whispered curses, clawing at his chest as she impaled herself on him. She came twice before collapsing beside him, panting and grinning like a wicked angel.

They took turns. Layla, Natalie, Susan, Lucy again.

Each one used his body, not like a tool, but a sacred conduit.

And with each climax, the pulse in the new basin grew stronger.

By the time Rose returned to him, his body trembled from exertion and bliss. But he welcomed her.

Always her.

She slid onto him slowly, her eyes locked to his, her hands pressed to his heart. She moved with reverence, hips rolling in deep, perfect circles, her voice humming a familiar song. He met her thrust for thrust, their bodies clinging like magnets. And when they came together, the glow of the temple surged so bright it turned the night to daylight for a heartbeat.

When it faded, they lay together in a tangled heap of limbs and breath and sweat.

The new basin pulsed steady now.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Soft and true.

Jude turned to Sophie. "It’s alive."

She nodded, curling into his side. "And we’re bound to it."

"What happens now?" Emma asked, her voice quiet and reverent.

Lucy looked up. "Now we build the second temple."

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

Rose turned to Jude, smiling. "Wherever he dreams it."

Because now, the island wasn’t just responding to them.

It was listening to him.

And whatever Jude dreamed next...

Would become their future.

The dream began before Jude even closed his eyes.

He lay in the center of the temple floor, surrounded by the warm weight of twelve bodies - twelve women who had long since ceased being merely his wives. They were stars in orbit around him, and he their gravity. Each breath they took seemed to sync with his, a collective exhale, like the entire island exhaled through them. The spark in the second basin beat steadily behind his eyes now, even as he stared up at the glowing canopy above. He didn’t need sleep. Not anymore. Not fully. But dreams... dreams came for him anyway.