Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1416

Chapter 1416: Chapter 1416

A perfect, circular chamber with no floor and no ceiling. The stairs simply ended at a wide platform suspended in midair, held aloft by vines and glowing veins of red-gold crystal that pulsed like arteries. Around them, the walls of the chamber curved up and down, vanishing into mist. But directly ahead floated something new.

A heart.

Suspended in air.

Massive. Beating. Alive.

Jude’s breath caught in his throat.

It wasn’t human, but it wasn’t entirely other, either. Its pulse vibrated through the platform beneath their feet, syncing with the thrum of blood in their veins. As it beat, the air shimmered with waves of heat and memory. They could feel it - like touching the soul of the island itself.

Sophie stepped forward, her voice hushed. "It’s been waiting."

Emma joined her, eyes wide. "For us?"

"No," Rose said. "For him."

Jude felt it then - deep in his chest. A pull. A bond. Like a thread tied from his heart to the one floating before him.

"It chose me."

"It always did," Grace whispered. "We just had to become worthy."

The vines pulsed brighter, drawing their attention. Each one stretched toward Jude, hovering like serpents waiting for permission. But they didn’t attack. They offered.

Jude stepped forward and placed a hand on the heart.

A burst of light exploded through the chamber.

The women cried out - not in fear, but ecstasy. The pulse of the heart surged through all of them, ripping down their spines, between their legs, across their tongues. Jude’s body lifted from the ground, suspended in air by the vines that wrapped gently, worshipfully, around his limbs.

He didn’t resist.

He let it take him.

The heart pulsed again.

And the island moaned.

The women collapsed to their knees, overwhelmed by the sensation. Scarlet was the first to move - crawling toward the glowing platform beneath Jude and pressing her lips to the stone. Her body writhed as if kissed by fire, her back arching, her moan echoing around the chamber. The others followed, pulled into the rhythm. Touching, licking, tasting. Lucy kissed Emma’s neck, her fingers sliding between her legs with aching precision. Stella pressed herself against Sophie, their breasts crushing together as they rocked in perfect unison.

Jude was lowered gently back to the platform, his body still trembling, his cock throbbing with need. Layla straddled him instantly, her slick heat taking him in with a gasp. She rode him with abandon, her hands on his chest, her hair flying wild around her shoulders.

Grace came next, kneeling to kiss Jude’s lips as Layla moaned above them. Then Lucy pressed in, wrapping her arms around his neck, her mouth hot against his shoulder. Then Zoey, her fingers teasing his thighs, her teeth leaving marks in his skin.

They took him again.

All of them.

Their bodies a rhythm, a chorus of need.

They came in waves, in pairs, in threes, tangled limbs and open mouths and cries that shook the air.

Jude lost count of how many times he filled them.

How many mouths kissed him.

How many fingers gripped him.

He was the altar now.

The heart.

And they worshiped.

Eventually, Rose pulled him free from the warmth of their joined bodies and cradled him on her lap like a priestess holding the key to heaven.

"You’ve crossed the veil," she whispered. "You’ve become."

The chamber began to pulse again - not with light, but with music. This time, not only from the island.

From them.

From Jude.

From the bond between them.

The walls lit with images - memories, dreams, futures. The tree on the beach. The first kiss. The rituals. The cave. The altar. The island.

And always: the twelve.

Their love.

Their lust.

Their power.

The heart shimmered, then slowly descended.

It hovered before Jude again.

And split open.

Inside, resting in a cradle of glowing flesh, was a seed.

Small.

Black.

Pulsing.

Rose leaned forward. "This is the beginning of the next world."

Lucy kissed Jude’s shoulder. "Yours."

Emma, breathless, touched the seed. "Ours."

He reached out.

And took it.

The chamber screamed with joy.

Every wife cried out with him, every body lighting in perfect unison, the vines wrapping tighter around the platform, the walls shaking with ecstasy and thunder.

The moment passed.

Silence.

Jude stood, the seed in his palm.

Behind him, the women gathered, touching him, kissing him, holding him. Naked. Changed. Complete.

The path had only begun.

And the island waited.

Jude held the seed in his palm, and it was warm. Not just in temperature, but in sensation - like holding a breath, a heartbeat, a promise. The warmth spread slowly through his fingers, up his wrist, and into his chest, blooming like fire in his lungs. Around him, his wives stood silently, watching. Their bodies still bore the glow of the ritual, their skin flushed, their eyes wide, their mouths parted in anticipation. No one moved. No one spoke.

Then the seed pulsed once in his hand.

A ripple of light, like breath in slow motion, moved across the chamber, curling along the stone, running up the ribs of the bone walls, soaking into the vines. Everything shimmered. The vines began to retreat, curling back into the darkness, revealing a slope - an exit path winding up from the chamber. The heart had given them its gift, and now it was done.

Rose touched his hand gently. "We need to plant it."

Jude nodded, his voice caught in his throat. He looked at the seed again and saw it change. Tiny veins of green now shimmered across its black surface, pulsing in time with his heart. It was alive - and growing.

They left the chamber together.

They moved like a single body now, no longer scattered individuals but limbs of the same being. Each step up the slope brought them back into the rhythm of the world, but the forest that met them at the top of the cliff was not the one they remembered.

It had changed.

The trees were taller.