Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1390

Chapter 1390: Chapter 1390

The echoes circled Jude slowly, brushing hands over his chest, his face, his shoulders. Each one whispered his name in a different voice, the way they used to say it in private moments: moaning, sighing, laughing, crying. Their bodies glided across his, feather-light, intoxicating.

He fell to his knees, overwhelmed. Not by fear. By love.

Lucy and Rose stepped in beside him, holding him, grounding him. "You’re not alone," Rose said softly.

"Never again," Lucy added.

Then the echoes began to dissolve, melting into threads of gold that wrapped around the women’s wrists, ankles, waists. They didn’t resist. They welcomed it, the light sliding along their skin, forming patterns of swirling symbols - runes that pulsed with magic and memory.

One by one, they turned to Jude, radiant and transformed.

And one by one, they knelt.

Not in submission.

In reverence.

Not just for him - but for them. For what they had become. For the bond they had forged. For the world they were about to create.

Sophie rose first, stepping close, her body gleaming with runes, her breath warm against his lips. "It’s time, Jude. Take us. All of us. Not one at a time. Together."

The others moved in, forming a circle, pressing their bodies against his, their hands exploring his skin, his muscles, his soul. The starlight above burned brighter, casting them in silver and gold. Every kiss was electric. Every touch burned.

He felt himself harden instantly, aching with need, with purpose.

Zoey slid behind him, her hands stroking his chest, her mouth on his neck. Natalie kissed him, deep and hungry, while Stella dropped to her knees before him, worship in her eyes.

Susan and Grace pressed their breasts against his arms, whispering promises and memories and filthy desires. Layla guided his hand between her legs, moaning as he touched her, slick and ready.

And Lucy, always Lucy, climbed into his lap, wrapping her legs around him, guiding him inside her with a sigh of utter surrender. "Let it happen," she whispered. "Let it begin."

He thrust into her, slow and deep, and the spiral inside them ignited again.

But this time it wasn’t just a spiral of sex.

It was creation.

As he moved within Lucy, Emma mounted him from behind, kissing his shoulder, her fingers teasing his skin, her lips trailing down to meet Zoey’s as they both caressed his thighs. Sophie kissed Lucy, hard and desperate, her fingers joining theirs. Rose kissed Emma’s back. Grace kissed Stella’s neck. Susan stroked herself beside them, her eyes glazed with worship.

It was a frenzy and a prayer, a ritual and a rebellion.

And it built.

And built.

And built.

Bodies pressed together. Mouths found mouths. Tongues, fingers, hips - all moved with a shared rhythm, a sacred madness.

Twelve women.

One man.

No separation.

Just fire.

Lucy cried out as she came, her whole body convulsing around him, triggering a chain reaction. Jude followed, gasping her name, pouring himself into her again, and again. He didn’t stop.

Because the others were next.

Rose climbed onto him as Lucy shivered in his arms, kissing his lips before she sank onto his cock with a gasp of pleasure. He filled her, moved within her, stroked her until she screamed her release into the stars.

Then Sophie.

Then Emma.

Then Grace, moaning, riding him like it was the last thing she’d ever do.

They took turns, or maybe there was no sequence anymore - just waves, just love, just pleasure layered on pleasure until Jude couldn’t remember how many times he’d come, how many times he’d collapsed into arms, into thighs, into mouths that whispered mine.

And at the end, when he was spent and shaking, when the stars above began to swirl faster and faster, the light consumed them all.

And they rose.

Floating.

Together.

Held by the platform of starlight, naked, radiant, marked by desire and memory and connection.

They had become something else.

Not gods.

Not monsters.

The spiral itself.

As one, they turned their gaze to the horizon.

The island had changed.

A city now rose from the center, glowing with the same runes that adorned their bodies. A temple. A haven. A beginning.

Jude looked at his wives, his lovers, his soulmates.

Twelve hearts. One rhythm.

He smiled.

And they descended together, ready to claim what was theirs.

They landed softly at the edge of the new city, the ground beneath their feet no longer wild dirt or tangled roots, but smooth stone that pulsed like a heartbeat. The city wasn’t like anything they’d known. It rose from the jungle like it had always been there, waiting - structures shaped not with straight lines, but with curves, arches, and spirals that mimicked the patterns of their own bodies, their own rhythm. Everything shimmered faintly, like the light didn’t just bounce off surfaces, but lived within them.

Jude stood in the center, surrounded by his wives, all twelve glowing with the marks left by the spiral. They moved like they belonged to the air now, bare and unashamed, hair flowing, eyes glowing, bodies slick with heat and memory. There was no more hiding. No more pretending they hadn’t changed. They were no longer guests of the island. They were part of it. Extensions of its breath.

Rose took his hand first, leading him into the city. The streets weren’t empty - they were alive with sound, soft melodies that drifted from the stones themselves, harmonizing with the hum in their chests. Every building pulsed in time with their footsteps, the whole city echoing the rhythm that had been born in the spiral.

Lucy walked on his other side, her fingers brushing his bare back, eyes locked on the path ahead. "Do you feel that?" she asked softly.

Jude nodded. "It’s... following us. Or welcoming us."

Sophie moved ahead of them, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk that didn’t hide the awe in her eyes. "It’s watching. Listening. It knows what we did."

Emma came to a stop before a tall spire that twisted up toward the sky. "I think this is where it wants us to go."

They entered together.