Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1481

Chapter 1481: Chapter 1481

Sophie cried out as she came, shaking against the tree, her fingers clenched in the moss, her body lit from within. Emma moaned into Jude’s shoulder as she ground against him, his hands holding her waist, her climax riding through her like lightning.

Rose licked her lips and stood slowly, golden streaks trailing down her chin. "The gate is open now."

Jude looked toward the far wall. The cave had shifted again - opened into another corridor. Not one formed by rock, but by roots and light. A tunnel that breathed.

"It wants us to enter together," Lucy said, rising beside him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, her smile slow and sensual.

"It’s our final step," Stella whispered.

They gathered again, naked, radiant, stronger now than they had ever been. Twelve wives. One husband. No longer just survivors of the island. They were its chosen.

They walked into the glowing passage as one, hand in hand, breath in breath. The roots wrapped around them gently, brushing over skin, teasing between thighs, kissing shoulders and necks, feeding pleasure into every step like whispers on silk.

Jude led them forward, and behind him, the women sang.

Not words.

Just sound.

Low.

Deep.

Beautiful.

The island welcomed them into its heart.

And they became its gods.

The roots throbbed with rhythm as they walked, a tempo slow and powerful, like the beat of an ancient heart. The passage wound deeper, narrowing in some places so they brushed close against each other, their bodies sticky with sweat and golden sap, breath mingling in the heat. The glow of the vines above bathed them in soft hues - amber, rose, silver - like the island was painting them anew.

Jude felt each of them beside him, their skin brushing his, their energy woven into his steps. Emma slipped her hand into his, her grip strong and trembling at once. Behind her, Grace and Stella moved as one, fingers laced, hips swaying in perfect synchrony. Lucy’s laughter drifted through the corridor like a spark, soft and alive, as she leaned into Natalie’s touch. Sophie walked closest to the wall, one hand tracing the glowing roots, her eyes sharp but filled with awe.

And Rose led from behind.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t hum. But the air shifted around her. She was becoming something else - priestess, goddess, or both. Her eyes glowed faintly gold, but there was no threat in them now. Only certainty.

The corridor widened.

They stepped into another chamber, unlike anything before.

It was vast, round, the ceiling open to a sky that wasn’t there. Instead of stars, a vast dome of shifting light pulsed above, like a living aurora. In the center of the chamber was a pool, but this one didn’t glow like the others. It shimmered dark, black like ink, but alive - each ripple casting reflections not of themselves, but of memories. Jude saw moments flickering: his first night on the island, the day he kissed Lucy under the waterfall, the first time he held Sophie after a fight. Every step around the pool brought new visions, new memories, each more intimate than the last.

"This is it," Rose said, stepping to the edge. "The final rite."

Jude looked at her. "Rite?"

Rose nodded. "Not to become. To merge."

He stepped beside her, watching the water pulse in time with his breath. "What happens if we do?"

"You don’t lose yourselves," she whispered. "You expand. We become the island. It becomes us."

The women surrounded them slowly. Zoey stood behind Jude and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself fully against his back, her lips brushing his neck. "I’m ready," she whispered.

Natalie joined next, kneeling at his side, one hand stroking up his thigh as she looked into the water. "It already knows us."

Emma moved forward, taking Jude’s hand and guiding it to her chest, pressing his palm over her heart. "Then let it feel us."

And then Lucy moved.

She stepped into the pool.

Not cautiously - boldly.

The black liquid rose around her calves, her thighs, clinging to her skin like silk. Her body glowed beneath it, her breath caught. "It’s warm," she gasped. "Alive."

Rose followed her in. The water didn’t fight them - it welcomed them.

Jude didn’t hesitate. He walked forward, Emma’s hand still in his, and stepped into the pool.

The sensation was unlike anything before. The liquid wasn’t water. It was thick and soft, moving like breath, like touch, wrapping around his legs, sliding up his thighs, curling between them. He groaned softly as it found every sensitive place on his body and pulsed against it - slowly, teasingly.

The others followed, one by one, until all thirteen of them stood naked and submerged in the liquid. The moment they were all inside, the surface stilled.

No ripples.

No sound.

Just breath.

And then it happened.

A glow erupted from beneath the pool - first silver, then violet, then deep gold. It enveloped their bodies in light and sensation. Jude felt every woman around him - not just with sight, but with touch, taste, emotion. Their pleasure became his. Their need. Their memories.

Lucy gasping in his arms, Emma biting her lip as she straddled his lap, Sophie whispering his name with tears in her eyes, Stella’s thighs clenched tight around him, Natalie’s nails dragging down his chest, Grace’s soft sighs in the dark. He felt them all. And more.

He moaned aloud as the wave of sensation overtook him.

The women cried out, each voice rising in harmony, their bodies arching and trembling. The pool had become a conduit, amplifying every sensation, every pulse of pleasure, turning it into a shared rhythm. They kissed and touched without care for sequence or order - Rose’s lips on Sophie’s neck while Zoey rode Jude with slow, undulating hips; Grace tangled with Lucy, their mouths fused as Natalie reached between them; Stella held Emma as Emma straddled Jude’s face, moaning his name with abandon.

And Jude - Jude surrendered to all of it.