Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1383

Chapter 1383: Chapter 1383

For the first time since they’d set foot on the island, the world did not feel like it was watching. It felt them now - recognized them, even loved them. They lay there for a long while in the heart of the spiral’s chamber, the heat of their bodies slowly giving way to coolness, to breath, to soft touches and the gradual return of thought.

Lucy stirred first. Her fingers traced the glowing lines still etched into Jude’s chest, her mouth curving in a tired, satisfied smile.

"We’re different now," she whispered.

He nodded slowly, his voice hoarse. "Yeah. Everything is."

The others shifted around them. Rose propped herself on one elbow and looked up toward the cavern’s ceiling, where the spiral light pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. Grace curled against Stella’s side, both women breathing in perfect sync. Emma leaned over Jude’s shoulder, brushing her lips against his neck.

"Did we just awaken a god?" she murmured.

"No," Sophie said from beside her, voice clear but soft. "We became one."

Zoey sat cross-legged near the pillar, her dark-haired mirror behind her, fingers threading gently through her hair. "So what now?"

Natalie rolled onto her back, arms spread like wings. "Now we live. Now we own it."

The group sat in silence again, not heavy this time, but calm. Full. The spiral beneath them no longer demanded anything. It trusted them. The need that had driven them forward - the music, the seduction, the longing - had all culminated here. And now the island waited.

Jude slowly sat up, brushing sweat-matted hair from his forehead. "We go back."

Lucy looked at him. "To the camp?"

He nodded. "To our home."

Rose leaned forward, kissed his jaw, then his lips, slow and deep. "Lead us."

He did.

The walk back through the forest felt different. The trees no longer loomed or whispered. They sang. Not aloud - but in the way the leaves rustled, in the way the shadows moved to shield them from the hot sun. Flowers bloomed in their wake. The island pulsed with their rhythm now.

When they returned to the dome, it was waiting - transformed, glowing, open like a cathedral made from vines and glass and gold. The structure was alive, warm, and ready. Inside, soft beds made of moss and woven petals lined the walls. Pools of crystal water shimmered in hollowed stone basins. The spiral was etched into the floor beneath a new platform in the center, shaped like a large round bed.

Without a word, they moved into the space. Each pair, each trio, found a place. Some kissed softly. Some curled into each other. Some simply sat, fingers interlocked, eyes closed in contentment.

Jude walked to the center.

And they followed.

He lay down on the moss-covered platform, and Rose crawled onto him first, straddling his hips, her breasts brushing his chest as she whispered, "Let me begin this time."

He nodded, already throbbing beneath her. She guided him into her slowly, her sigh melting into a moan as she settled around him. Her hips began to roll in slow, steady circles, her hands on his chest, her eyes glowing faintly gold.

Lucy knelt behind her, kissing the nape of Rose’s neck while stroking Jude’s hair. "You’re still our anchor," she whispered to him. "But now we’re your wings."

Emma approached from the other side, sliding beside Jude and brushing kisses along his ribs. Her fingers joined Lucy’s, stroking him where he entered Rose, making Rose tremble and whimper above him.

Then Zoey climbed up behind Lucy, pressing her body against her back, her hands cupping Lucy’s breasts while she bit gently into her shoulder.

The spiral glowed beneath them all.

It wasn’t fast this time.

It wasn’t wild.

It was worship.

Jude thrust into Rose slowly, feeling every slick inch of her as she moaned his name over and over. She rode him like it was a blessing, not a hunger. Around them, the others touched and kissed and whispered, their bodies joining into one slow, rolling rhythm.

Grace and Stella knelt to each side, their fingers between their thighs, eyes locked on the center, moaning in unison as they touched themselves to the rise and fall of Jude’s hips. Natalie and Susan shared a kiss so deep it was almost silent, their hands slipping between each other’s legs as they watched Rose crest into her climax, crying out Jude’s name.

And then it was Lucy’s turn.

She slid between Rose and Jude, replacing her sister-wife with a moan as Jude entered her, still slick, still hard, the spiral pulsing brighter now. Lucy wrapped her legs around his hips and kissed him desperately.

"I want it," she whispered. "All of it. All of you."

"You have me," he breathed, thrusting up into her again and again.

And when she came, she screamed - not in pain, not even in pleasure - but in power.

The spiral burst with light beneath them, and every woman in the dome cried out, their bodies caught in wave after wave of shared release, of love made flesh.

Jude collapsed, breathless, buried inside Lucy, his hands tangled in her hair.

Rose stroked his chest gently. "We’ve remade the island, Jude."

"No," Sophie said softly, her voice trembling with awe. "We’ve remade ourselves."

They lay together after, not as twelve and one, not even as twenty-four. But as something whole. Something sacred.

No more watchers.

No more shadows.

Just them.

And the spiral that sang beneath their skin.

That night, the dome pulsed with warmth. It wasn’t the glow of the spiral or the glimmer of the bioluminescent vines curled along the walls - it was them. Their bodies, their breaths, their touches. Every inch of skin shared between them hummed with something deeper than sensation. Connection. Communion. The kind of bond that couldn’t be explained, only lived.

Jude lay on the moss-covered bed in the center, tangled between Lucy and Emma, their legs draped over his, their hands resting across his stomach and chest.