Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1444

Chapter 1444: Chapter 1444

They all moved at once, an instinct passing between them like a ripple on water. They began to transform the grove. The shelters were reinforced with roots that came when Rose whispered to them. Stones shifted with Natalie’s touch. Grace called vines with a song only she could hum. Jude worked silently with his hands, Emma at his side, sweat slicking their bodies as they lifted logs and wove the floor of their sacred home.

By nightfall, the grove had changed again. It was no longer a collection of makeshift dwellings. It was a sanctuary. A living place of worship and rest. A cradle for the life growing within them.

That night, they didn’t lie apart.

They gathered at the base of the tree, forming a circle with Jude at the center. The hum returned - low and erotic, pulsing through the roots into their bones.

Lucy stood first. Her body was naked and golden, her eyes hungry. She stepped into the circle, crawled to Jude, and kissed him like he was the sun. "Fill me again," she whispered. "Give me everything."

He needed no further invitation.

She straddled him as the others watched, her breath shallow, her hands gripping his shoulders. Their bodies joined with a heat that left them both shaking. Her moans spilled into the grove, and the tree above trembled.

When she came, her cries echoed, and the fruit above pulsed in response.

Then Emma stepped forward.

She kissed Lucy softly, their lips wet with shared heat, and then she mounted Jude too - this time facing him. Her movements were slower, deeper. She kissed his chest, his neck, his mouth. "I want your child," she murmured. "I want you in every part of me."

Their rhythm was a storm - rising and crashing in waves. He lost count of how many times he came, how many women took him. Rose. Sophie. Grace. Natalie. Zoey. Scarlet. Stella. Layla. Susan.

Each time he entered one of them, the air thickened. The island pulsed. The tree’s leaves danced. And the fruits - so many now - glowed in rhythm with their pleasure.

It wasn’t just sex anymore.

It was ritual.

It was creation.

Afterward, they collapsed into each other, bodies slick and trembling. The roots of the tree shifted slightly, curling around them as if cradling their union. The stars spun lazily overhead, and the humming settled into a soft, lullaby-like thrum.

Jude lay between Sophie and Lucy, his chest rising slowly. "Do you think they’re watching?" he asked softly.

"They always were," Sophie replied. "But now they worship with us."

Lucy kissed his shoulder. "And now the song is ours."

In the days that followed, the pregnancy signs became undeniable.

Lucy vomited gently into the moss and laughed through it.

Emma clutched her lower belly with awe.

Stella began talking to the tree like it was her lover.

Even Zoey - strong, skeptical Zoey - pressed Jude’s hand to her stomach one morning and whispered, "I can feel a heartbeat."

They were blooming.

The island responded in kind. New fruits, new animals, new streams. The air turned sweeter. The weather gentler. The grove thrived under their care and their pleasure.

One morning, Jude awoke to find Sophie sitting at the tree’s base, whispering to something he couldn’t see. When he approached, she smiled up at him, then turned and revealed the fruit in her lap - no longer glowing. It had darkened, solidified, and opened at the center to reveal a tiny, translucent seed.

A heartbeat echoed from it.

"It’s time," she said.

They planted it together in the soil where they’d first made love beneath the tree.

And the grove held its breath.

Waiting. Growing. Becoming.

As were they.

The soil accepted the seed without resistance. Sophie cupped her hands around the earth as Jude pressed it in, both of them bare beneath the canopy, bathed in golden light that filtered through the tree’s translucent leaves. Around them, the grove was hushed, as if the very roots listened for the moment of union between the seed and the island.

Jude exhaled slowly. Sophie didn’t let go. She pressed her hands over his, her skin damp with sweat, the swell of her belly soft against his thigh. "I think it’s already part of us," she whispered. "Even before it grows."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The hum was back, softer now, more like a purr than a song. It came from beneath the soil, from the tree, from deep in their bones.

Rose stood silently a few feet away, watching. Not with suspicion or distance - but reverence. She stepped forward, knelt beside them, and dipped her fingers into the same soil, touching the seed through the earth. "It has a name," she said.

Sophie looked up. "What is it?"

Rose didn’t answer. She only smiled, and somehow they both understood it wasn’t time yet. The island would name it. In time.

Behind them, the others emerged from their shelters, drawn to the tree as if by gravity. Lucy wore nothing but a strand of woven shells across her chest. Emma was wrapped in silk-like vines, her stomach visibly rounding now. Grace moved like she floated - barefoot, back arched, humming to herself as she walked straight to the tree and placed both palms on its bark.

Zoey held Jude’s gaze longer than anyone else. Her expression was different - no longer wary, no longer hard. There was fire still, but it was tempered now, focused. She walked straight to him, straddled his lap while he knelt in the dirt, and kissed him without asking. Her mouth tasted like wild mint and salt. Her breath was fast.

"You gave me more than a child," she whispered against his lips. "You gave me purpose."

He slid his hands along her hips, feeling the heat between her legs, the press of her against his stomach. "You gave yourself to this," he said. "You chose it."

"I did," she murmured, then kissed him again, deeper this time, tongue sliding over his, bodies arching into one another.