Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1471

Chapter 1471: Chapter 1471

Zoey wrapped herself around Grace, their mouths meeting in a heated kiss that deepened with the rising pulse of the altar. Natalie bent beneath Layla, who licked up her belly in long, desperate strokes, while Susan grinded slowly against Stella’s thigh, breath hitching in broken rhythm.

Jude moved with Lucy, each thrust deep, deliberate, more than sex - communion. She cried out with every motion, nails digging into his shoulders, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"I see her again," Lucy whispered. "The woman... the tree... the cave... she’s showing me."

Rose guided Jude’s face to hers and kissed him hard, tongue exploring his mouth like she’d waited a century. "Keep going," she murmured. "We need you to finish. You’re the catalyst."

The tempo increased. The moss lifted and fell like a living heartbeat. Bodies slick with sweat and desire moved in tandem, limbs tangled, breath shared. Emma kissed Sophie, and Sophie gasped into her mouth. Zoey moaned Rose’s name. Stella wrapped her arms around Layla and rocked against her. There were no boundaries left. No shame. No division.

Only heat.

Only need.

Lucy cried out as she climaxed, her body trembling as she held Jude tight. He kissed her deeply as she came down, and she slid from him, replaced instantly by Sophie.

She didn’t even wait - just impaled herself on him and began to ride, her pace fast and frantic. "Give it to me," she growled against his neck. "Let it take me."

He did.

When Sophie came, she screamed.

And the altar sang.

A note rang out, clear and pure, like crystal struck with lightning. The forest echoed it back, every leaf and branch shuddering with the sound. Stella gasped and fell to her knees, crying as she climaxed from just the sound. Grace came next, sobbing into Susan’s arms, shaking uncontrollably.

They were vessels. All of them. Overflowing.

And Jude was the source.

Emma mounted him next, her hair wild, her thighs strong. She rode him in silence, her eyes locked to his the entire time. He cupped her breasts and she gasped, shoving herself down harder, deeper, until her orgasm rolled through her like thunder. The light flared again.

Three times. Three women. The altar was nearly alive now, glowing with each union.

Rose touched his chest as Emma slipped off, panting.

"One more."

Layla kissed him gently and mounted him, slower this time, more intimate. She cupped his face as she rocked her hips, her breath shivering with every motion. "You feel like the island," she whispered. "Like the beginning."

When she climaxed, she didn’t scream. She sighed, long and low and soft.

And the altar burst with light.

A beam shot upward from its center, past the canopy, into the sky. The entire forest responded - birds crying out, trees bending, the moss rippling like waves. The women fell back, gasping, trembling, clinging to each other, bodies still glowing from the aftershock.

Jude collapsed onto his back on the altar, utterly spent.

Rose lay beside him, curling her arm around his waist. "It’s open now."

"What is?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"The path."

He turned his head to her. "To what?"

She smiled, brushing sweat from his brow. "Ascension."

Above them, the sky opened, stars shining in full daylight.

The stars didn’t twinkle. They throbbed. As if pulsing to the same rhythm that had consumed them moments ago. Jude couldn’t look away. They were too close, too real , and far too aware. They shimmered with color that didn’t exist in the normal sky - blues so deep they bent thought, golds so warm they seemed to sing, pinks that touched memory and made his eyes wet.

The wives lay scattered around him like petals after a storm. Naked, glistening, glowing - each one curled into the others, sighing or breathing in quiet awe. The forest was utterly silent now. No insects. No rustling leaves. Even the wind had gone still, as though holding its breath for what came next.

Lucy lifted her head from his chest and looked up. Her pupils were dilated, her skin still humming with afterglow. "Do you feel it too?"

"I don’t know what it is," Jude whispered.

Rose sat up beside him, legs folded beneath her, body painted in sweat and moss. "It’s the veil. It’s thinner now. What we did - it opened something that’s been sealed for... maybe forever."

Emma crawled closer, resting her head on his thigh. "And it wants us. That’s the part I can’t ignore. It isn’t just watching. It’s calling."

"We’re not alone," Sophie said. She was still by the fire, arms wrapped around Stella. "And I don’t mean spirits. I mean... something else."

"Not watching us like predators," Layla murmured, resting against Susan. "Watching us like... like a lover in another room. Waiting for the right moment to come in."

Grace tilted her head. "Then what happens when it does?"

No one answered.

Jude sat up slowly. The stone beneath him had cooled, though the gold veins still glowed faintly, as if lit from within by a memory. His body ached with beautiful exhaustion, but his mind was alight. He looked around at them - his wives, his soulmates, his companions in this unknown journey.

"Whatever’s waiting," he said softly, "we’re going to meet it together."

Zoey raised a brow. "With our blades or our bodies?"

He gave her a half-smile. "Maybe both. Wait and see."

They laughed, low and shared, tension breaking like morning fog.

But even as they dressed - or half-dressed - and began gathering the things they’d dropped or scattered during the ritual, something still lingered in the clearing. A hum that didn’t fade. A shimmer that wasn’t light. Jude felt it behind his eyes, like a promise burned into memory.

Rose stood and walked toward the center of the altar again, eyes fixed on the stone’s surface. She placed both hands flat on it and whispered something no one else could hear. The stone responded - light flickered again - and something opened.