Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1462

Chapter 1462: Chapter 1462

Around him, they began to rise.

Lucy first, her body arched like a cat’s as she stretched, her breasts rising with her breath.

Her eyes found his, sultry and warm. Then Emma, who pressed a kiss to his shoulder before settling beside him, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his thigh.

Layla sat cross-legged nearby, brushing her hair with her fingers, still glowing from within. Rose, of course, stood in the shadows at the edge of the clearing, watching him with that same knowing smile, like she was seeing a future only she understood.

The others stirred slowly, no rush, no urgency. Naked, radiant, theirs was the movement of priestesses in a temple no one had named, conducting a ritual older than memory.

Sophie was last to rise.

She walked toward Jude with deliberate steps, her gaze unreadable.

He stood as she reached him.

"I’m still me," she said softly.

"I know," he replied.

"But I feel it now. Whatever it is. That thing you touched. That we all touched."

Her fingers traced his chest, pausing over his heart.

"It’s inside us now."

He nodded.

She leaned in, kissing him slowly. "Then let it grow."

And just like that, she dropped to her knees before him, her mouth hot, wet, and reverent. Jude groaned, his hands threading through her hair as she took him into her mouth with a hunger that was both holy and obscene. Around them, the other wives watched, their hands drifting over their own bodies or each other’s, breath quickening in the quiet.

When he came, Sophie swallowed every drop, licking her lips with a satisfied smile as she looked up at him. "Your seed belongs to us now. All of us."

Stella approached, kneeling beside her, lips brushing Sophie’s in a slow, open kiss before turning to Jude. "Now me."

He didn’t resist. He couldn’t. His body was not just his own anymore - it was theirs. And as Stella rode him slowly in the moss, Lucy straddled his chest, her thighs slick and warm around his face, guiding his mouth with a whisper of "yes, just like that." Their pleasure wove together again, rising in a crescendo that sent pulses through the earth beneath them.

The ground throbbed. The altar pulsed. The tree glowed brighter with every climax.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was evolution.

They were becoming.

By the time the stars began to fade and the horizon hinted at dawn, they had lost count of how many times they’d shared one another - how many times fingers had tangled, how many mouths had explored, how many moans had been sung into the canopy above.

They lay tangled, limbs draped over limbs, breath mingling, skin slick with sweat and satisfaction.

And then, softly, the island spoke again.

Not in words.

But in light.

A path formed from the edge of the clearing, made of gently glowing stones that hadn’t been there before. They pulsed in the same rhythm as the tree, as their hearts, as the song they’d completed.

Jude sat up, the others following with slow, curious movements.

"They want us to go," Grace whispered, leaning against Susan.

"No," Rose said softly. "They want us to see. "

Jude rose, still nude, unashamed. The women followed, their bodies gleaming with moonlight and starlight and something older. As one, they stepped onto the path.

It wound deep through the forest, between ancient trees and glowing roots. It was neither hot nor cold, neither morning nor night - it existed in a suspended stillness, a sacred pocket of time carved just for them.

At the end of the path stood a structure.

A stone arch covered in vines and petals, humming with soft light.

Beyond it... mist. Endless mist.

Jude turned to the others. No one spoke. But they nodded, one after another.

He stepped through the arch.

The mist was cool, kissing his skin with tiny pinpricks of sensation. He heard their steps behind him, felt their warmth, their breath.

And then the mist cleared.

They stood in a meadow - vast, lush, bathed in silver-blue light. In the center, a second tree grew, identical to the one by the altar. But taller. Older. Its trunk twisted skyward, roots pulsing through the earth like veins.

And beneath it stood a woman.

Not Rose.

Not any of them.

Something else.

Her body was made of light and shadow, her hair a flowing cascade of stars. Her eyes were wide and ancient and full of knowing. She was naked, yet not human - more concept than flesh.

She smiled.

And the island trembled.

"My children," she said, though her mouth didn’t move.

"You sang the song," she continued, her voice echoing inside their heads. "You danced the steps. You loved as one."

The wives stepped closer, surrounding Jude.

"You’ve awakened me."

"Who are you?" he asked.

She reached out and touched his chest.

"I am the seed. The root. The fruit. The flame. I am the island. And now... so are you."

She turned, walking toward the great tree, and as she touched its trunk, it opened like a blooming flower - revealing stairs spiraling downward into glowing darkness.

The being stepped inside and vanished.

The tree closed behind her.

Jude turned to his wives.

None of them looked afraid.

Only aroused.

Ready.

Lucy took his hand. "Let’s see how deep it goes."

And so they followed.

The steps inside the tree were warm beneath their feet.

They spiraled downward not in darkness, but in a living glow - pulsing walls of bark and root lit from within, like the tree itself had become a womb welcoming its children home. The air smelled of nectar and heat, rich and thick, clinging to skin with every breath. Jude descended first, his hand clasped in Lucy’s, the others behind them in a silent procession of bare bodies and open hearts.

The further they walked, the warmer it became - not stifling, but sensual, like the interior of a mouth or the moment before a kiss. Jude’s skin prickled.