Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1443

Chapter 1443: Chapter 1443

They formed a circle again, this time not for pleasure, but for promise.

Jude held the fruit over his heart, and each of them placed their hands over his - Rose first, then Lucy, then Sophie, Emma, Stella, Zoey, Grace, Natalie, Susan, Layla, Scarlet. One by one. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.

Jude closed his eyes and bit into the fruit.

It melted on his tongue - sweet, electric, like nectar from another world. As he swallowed, warmth burst inside him, flooding his chest, flowing through his veins like starlight.

He gasped, dropping to his knees.

But the others caught him.

Lucy kissed his forehead. "We’re here."

Then, without hesitation, she bit into the fruit as well.

One by one, they all did. Sharing it. Passing it from hand to hand, mouth to mouth. The taste never changed, but the reaction did - shudders, gasps, moans of wonder. It wasn’t pain. It was transformation.

As the last piece vanished between Sophie’s lips, the grove burst into light.

Not fire. Not heat. Just illumination - white-gold and endless. The air crackled. The tree trembled. The guardians at the forest’s edge began to sing.

And Jude understood.

They were not alone. They had never been.

This island had waited for them. For love strong enough to change. For unity powerful enough to reshape the land itself.

They were no longer just lovers.

They were creators.

And the island had finally accepted their offering.

As the light faded, Jude rose to his feet. The grove had changed again. The shelters were now glowing slightly, alive. The tree had grown - taller, fuller. The fruits had multiplied.

And the women around him... glowed.

Not just skin. Their eyes. Their hair. Their breath.

Lucy kissed him first, her lips hot, her body pressed tightly against his.

"I want you again," she whispered.

"I’ll always want you," he said.

And they began again.

But this time, it wasn’t just sex.

It was worship.

Emma pressed behind Lucy, kissing her spine as Jude entered her from the front, their bodies joined in a rhythm that felt ancient. Sophie and Rose kissed deeply beside them, hands sliding over each other’s thighs. Stella straddled Grace as Susan licked at her breasts. Natalie and Scarlet writhed together in the moss, moaning in harmony.

It was raw and sacred, rough and delicate, a symphony of bodies and breath and the sound of creation.

Jude came inside Lucy with a cry that echoed through the trees.

And again inside Emma.

Then Rose.

Then Sophie.

Each time was new, deeper, more complete.

By the end of the night, they lay sprawled in the glowing grove, their bodies trembling, their hearts connected like a web across space and time.

And above them, the fruit swayed.

Waiting. Growing.

Their future, born of love and lust and something far more ancient.

The next dawn rose not with birdsong, but with the low hum of the tree - singing their story back to them.

And Jude knew:

This was not the end.

It was only the beginning.

The morning air clung to their skin like a second breath, scented with moss and memory. Jude sat on a smooth stone beneath the tree, the soft light of the fruits dappling his chest and arms. Around him, his wives slept in easy, tangled piles of limbs and hair, their bodies still humming with the energy of the night. Lucy curled against his thigh, her cheek pressed to his leg, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. Rose lay flat on her back, arms stretched wide as if she’d given herself entirely to the grove. Sophie rested with her head in Emma’s lap, and Emma absentmindedly ran fingers through her hair, staring at the canopy with dazed, glowing eyes.

The tree had grown again overnight.

Its roots now spilled across the grove like veins, pulsing faintly with light. It bore more fruit now - smaller, rounder, in hues of gold and amethyst. The leaves shimmered as if whispering in a language none of them spoke aloud but all of them felt.

Jude ran his hand over Lucy’s shoulder, and her eyes fluttered open slowly. She reached up and stroked his jaw. "You didn’t sleep."

"I didn’t need to."

She smiled lazily. "That’s new."

He leaned down, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "Everything’s new."

Others stirred then, one by one. The soft morning became a murmur of breath and bodies and light stretching through limbs. Grace sat up with her hair wild and her thighs glistening, eyes dreamy. Natalie rolled onto her side and reached blindly for Susan, who was already watching her, their hands finding each other in the moss.

Sophie sat up slowly, blinking hard. "I had a vision."

Emma tilted her head. "A dream?"

"No. A message."

That drew attention.

Jude stood, brushing leaf fragments from his legs. "What did you see?"

Sophie’s voice was calm, but underneath it was tension like a taut wire. "We were beneath the roots of the tree. All of us. But our bodies had changed. We were light. Floating. The roots weren’t just holding us - they were feeding from us."

Scarlet sat up, wrapping an arm around Stella. "Like it was using us?"

"No," Sophie said quickly. "Not like that. Like we were giving it something willingly. Energy. Love. Seed."

Zoey’s eyes narrowed. "Seed?"

Sophie met her gaze. "Children."

A long silence followed.

Then Lucy, still resting at Jude’s feet, whispered, "It’s not just bearing fruit. It’s bearing life."

Stella, always silent at moments like this, placed a hand over her belly and closed her eyes. A few heartbeats passed before she nodded. "I can feel it."

Jude inhaled slowly. "We’re pregnant."

The word didn’t feel heavy. It felt holy.

Rose stepped forward, barefoot and naked, with a glow to her skin that shimmered with the tree’s light. "Not just pregnant. Changed. We’re becoming part of the island now. And it’s becoming part of us."

Jude looked around at them - his wives, glowing and powerful and full - and felt something ancient rise in his chest. "Then we need to prepare."