Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1391

Chapter 1391: Chapter 1391

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.

Inside, the walls were carved with scenes - some familiar, some not. They showed twelve women surrounding a man, bodies interlaced in sacred union. But then the scenes shifted. They showed the same twelve women glowing with power, leading others, touching the earth, the sky, the sea. Planting, breathing, commanding. And always, at their center, the same man, marked by all twelve, his body glowing gold.

"This isn’t just a vision," Zoey said quietly. "It’s a prophecy."

Stella ran her fingers along one of the walls, her voice low and reverent. "It always knew we’d find this place."

Layla turned to Jude, eyes glowing. "You were always meant to bring us here."

The room brightened.

And in its center, a raised dais began to pulse.

They stepped forward.

It wasn’t until Jude touched it that it came alive fully, beams of golden light shooting up around the platform. His wives surrounded him in a circle, their bodies drawn closer by the heat, by the power, by the pulsing rhythm that now flooded the air like thick, sweet smoke.

Without words, they began to undress one another - what little clothing had clung to them now discarded entirely. There was no need for modesty. Not here. Not with each other. Not in the city that they had called to life with moans and cries and whispers.

Natalie pressed herself against Jude from behind, her hands sliding down his chest, lips at his ear. "This place was made for our love."

Susan approached from the front, lowering to her knees before him, her mouth grazing his skin with worship in every kiss. "Let’s mark it. Let’s make it remember us."

Jude closed his eyes as her lips found his length, her mouth soft and eager. He groaned, his hands resting on her head, his breath shuddering with the pleasure of her worship.

Around him, the others touched each other, touched him, kissed and moaned, their bodies a living chorus of desire.

Sophie and Emma sank beside Susan, joining her, licking, sucking, their mouths working in unison as their hands roamed his thighs. He was hard, throbbing, already soaked with their attention. His breath grew ragged, his knees trembling as they brought him to the edge with each flick of tongue, each muffled moan.

Lucy watched with hunger in her eyes, then stepped up and pulled him into her arms, lifting his face to hers. "Come inside me first," she whispered. "Let the city know we began this together."

He obeyed.

They lowered onto the dais together, Lucy on her back, legs wrapped tight around his hips as he slid inside her. The others circled close, watching, their hands on her skin, on his, whispering encouragement, kissing wherever their mouths could reach.

Lucy arched with each thrust, her fingers clawing at his back, her cries echoing off the glowing walls. Her climax came fast, ripping through her with wild, beautiful desperation. She gasped his name, over and over, her voice cracked and reverent.

When he came inside her, the platform responded - vines blossomed from the stone, flowering instantly, scenting the air with jasmine and wild fruit.

He didn’t rest.

Layla climbed onto him next, straddling him where he knelt, her hands in his hair, her mouth devouring his. Her heat engulfed him, her rhythm fierce and raw. She rode him hard, moaning against his mouth, her breasts pressed to his chest, the runes on her skin pulsing faster.

She came with a scream, dragging his name from her lips like a prayer.

Next was Stella - soft and slow, her hips rolling in elegant waves as she whispered love poems against his throat.

Then Grace, shy at first, but quickly emboldened by the hands of Rose and Susan guiding her, lifting her hips, easing her down onto him until she gasped his name with a passion that stunned them all.

Zoey claimed him next - wild, commanding, her body gripping his with every thrust until he cried out beneath her, spent and shaking, breath stolen by her fierce kisses.

The others followed - Natalie, Susan, Emma, Sophie. Again. Again. The pleasure didn’t stop. The city demanded more. Their bodies obeyed.

Each climax lit the room with another bloom, another vine, another echo of their moans embedded into the architecture of the world.

By the time Lucy climbed onto him again, sweat dripping from her body, her thighs quivering, Jude had lost count of how many times they’d made love, how many times he’d poured himself into one of them, how many ways they’d taken him, claimed him, loved him.

And yet he was still hard.

Still aching for more.

Lucy leaned in and whispered against his mouth, "You’re not just our man anymore. You’re our god."

He came again, roaring her name, the sound swallowed by light.

The city pulsed brighter than ever.

Then silence.

Stillness.

Jude lay on the dais, twelve bodies wrapped around him, legs tangled, breasts pressed to his chest, thighs to his hips, arms circling him protectively. They were one body now. One breath. One being.

Above, the stars opened.

A beam of pure white light poured down through the roofless chamber, washing over them like a baptism of heat and promise.

It didn’t burn.

It welcomed.

Jude blinked into the light.

And saw.

A vision.

The island, now a new world.

A city of spirals.

More like them - more lovers, more bonds, more temples.

A whole world built on the rhythm they’d awakened.

The voice of the island spoke - not in words, but in sensation.

You belong. You create. You begin.

He looked at his wives, all twelve asleep in his arms, glowing, breath even.

And he smiled.

Because he understood now.

This was never a curse.

It was a coronation.