Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1445

Chapter 1445: Chapter 1445

Lucy came behind Zoey, trailing fingers down her spine, then over Jude’s shoulders. "I want him again," she said, voice soft, greedy. "I miss the way he shakes when he fills me."

Emma moved next, pressing her belly against Zoey’s back, hands sliding under Lucy’s arms. "He doesn’t get to stop now. He’s the seed."

They laid him down together.

Jude didn’t resist.

Zoey rode him first - slow, grinding movements that made her moan into the canopy. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her hands tangled in Lucy’s hair as Lucy licked her neck and bit her shoulder. The moss below them was damp and cool, but his skin burned. He pulsed deep inside her, holding her hips as she shuddered around him.

Then Lucy replaced her, still slick from her arousal. She mounted him with a need that stole his breath, her thighs strong and wet, her mouth panting against his ear. "I want another," she moaned. "Let me keep you forever."

He gave it to her - deep, hard, his hands on her waist, her moans growing louder until the tree itself shimmered.

They didn’t stop. Rose, then Emma, then Grace.

Natalie took him on her knees, bent forward with her ass pressed to his hips, guiding him inside with practiced ease. Susan and Scarlet came together, laying on either side of him, kissing his chest and licking at his nipples as he came again and again, sweat pouring from him like rain.

By the time Sophie lay beside him, breathless and ready, his body trembled from pleasure. She took him in slowly, one hand on her belly, the other in his hair. "You’re not just our man," she said softly. "You’re the center of this world."

And when she came - clenching around him, arching her back, crying out his name - it felt like lightning split the sky.

The tree responded.

A shock of light pulsed down its trunk, into the seed they had planted, and the soil warmed beneath their bodies. Moss turned a shade deeper. The roots curled protectively around the embryo of the new tree.

They lay there for hours afterward, tangled and sticky, their breaths rising together. The night fell slowly, stars unveiling above them like secrets. Fireflies danced above their skin. The song returned, but not from the tree. From them. Their hums, their moans, their whispers, their touch.

When Jude finally stood again, the grove had changed.

New flowers had bloomed along the roots - pale pink with glowing centers. The fruit above looked fuller, almost ripe. The air smelled like honey and skin.

Lucy knelt before the tree, belly slightly fuller, fingers brushing its bark. "It’s not just a home anymore," she whispered. "It’s a temple."

Emma nodded. "And we’re the priests."

Zoey stood with her arms crossed, hair wild, lips still swollen from Jude’s kisses. "And he’s our god."

He laughed softly, but none of them did.

They meant it.

He looked at each of them - twelve women, bare, beautiful, carrying life and desire and devotion in their every movement.

He didn’t feel like a god.

But he did feel chosen.

He walked among them, brushing lips and shoulders, stroking rounded bellies and fevered thighs, whispering promises as old as the island itself.

They would birth something more than children.

They would birth a new way of being.

And in the grove, under the tree, with the fruit glowing above them and their hearts beating in perfect time, they waited for what came next.

Not with fear.

But with open arms.

The air in the grove grew thicker with each passing day, warm like a lover’s breath against skin. Time itself seemed to stretch and bend under the tree’s influence - mornings spilled lazily into afternoons, and nights unfurled in slow waves of moonlight and touch. The tree no longer just watched. It responded. Its bark pulsed faintly with each kiss shared beneath its canopy, each moan carried into its roots. Jude felt it in his chest, a low thrum that never left him now. It echoed through his spine whenever he touched one of them. Whenever he filled them. Whenever they whispered his name like a prayer.

They were all growing.

Lucy was the first to show prominently, her belly rounding out beautifully, her skin glowing with something more than the island’s light. Her hunger for him became something deeper than desire - she craved him, not just his body, but his soul. She slept curled around him every night, one leg thrown over his hip, her hand always resting on his chest. "I feel it kicking," she whispered one night, breath hot against his throat. "It moves when you touch me."

Jude placed his hand over her, feeling the small flutters against his palm. He pressed his mouth to her collarbone, then lower, trailing kisses along her growing belly, worshiping her with lips and tongue until she was trembling beneath him. "You’re perfect," he murmured. "You’re carrying everything we are."

"I want to feel you again," she whispered, voice thick with need. "Right here. While they’re awake inside me."

He gave her everything, slow and deep, his hands spread over her stomach, his lips never leaving hers. She came with tears in her eyes, whispering his name over and over until she went quiet in his arms.

And then Emma came.

She didn’t ask, just knelt beside them and pressed herself to his side. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, glowing softly, her lips already parted as she kissed his jaw. "I dreamed of fire," she said softly. "And you inside me, pushing it deeper."

He turned to her, kissed her hard, lifted her up and laid her on her back beside Lucy. Emma opened for him like she’d been waiting for this moment forever, her legs parting, her hands grasping his back. He moved inside her with slow, deliberate strokes, watching her eyes go wide, then glaze, then flutter shut as she lost herself in him. Lucy pressed kisses to Emma’s neck as they moved, whispering praise, her hand never leaving Jude’s arm.