Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1492

Chapter 1492: Chapter 1492

Jude and Lucy moved together, their breath becoming one. Her legs trembled around him, her body blooming beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

When she came, it was with a shudder and a cry that echoed in every chest. And when Jude followed, it wasn’t just release - it was surrender. Surrender to them. To the island. To everything.

They collapsed together, surrounded by the others, their breathing ragged, their bodies glowing.

Emma crawled over next, her skin flushed, and lay on Jude’s other side, curling against him like she had in countless nights before - but now her kiss was hungrier, filled with gratitude, with ache. Sophie followed, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then to Lucy’s. Grace kissed his hand. Layla ran her fingers through his hair.

And Rose... Rose watched.

She hadn’t touched him yet.

When their eyes met, Jude reached for her.

She came to him slowly, every step laced with power and affection. She knelt between his legs, straddling him without a word. Her hands cupped his face.

"You’re ready now," she whispered.

He nodded, breathless.

When she kissed him, the shard turned white-hot.

Her body met his with a rhythm that matched the hum of the island, slow and unstoppable. She moved with him as if they had been created for this moment, as if the world was built for this alone. Every motion echoed through the others - every gasp, every moan, every clench and pulse. They were not separate. They were one body with many mouths, many hands, many hearts.

Rose’s climax sent a wave through them all.

It began with her cry, then rippled like a song in perfect harmony - Sophie shuddering against Emma’s chest, Lucy arching with a moan, Grace grabbing Natalie’s hair and pulling her into a kiss, Zoey falling back in bliss, Stella whimpering with her face buried in Layla’s neck.

And then silence.

Holy, reverent silence.

No one moved.

Even the air held still.

The shard, now dimmed, receded back into its pedestal, as if it had taken what it needed.

Jude was the first to speak, barely above a whisper. "Is it done?"

"No," Rose said, still seated atop him, her voice shaking with tenderness. "It’s only begun."

They lay there for hours, tangled, touching, breathing.

Eventually, one by one, they climbed the staircase again.

The island outside had changed again. The trees bore fruit they hadn’t seen before - deep purple with glowing veins. The mist smelled of honey and jasmine. The stars above seemed to shift subtly, forming new constellations they didn’t recognize.

But the biggest change was inside them.

They were more than they’d been.

Jude looked at his wives - naked, glowing, proud. No longer just twelve women and a man.

They were something ancient.

Something sacred.

And whatever the island asked next... they would answer. Together.

Jude didn’t remember falling asleep, but he remembered waking.

Not with a start, not with panic, but with the slow awareness of warmth. Of skin. Of limbs tangled around his, breaths shared, hair fanned across his chest. Lucy lay draped over him, her leg hooked over his thigh, her lips parted in soft sleep. Emma curled along his other side, fingers resting lightly on his stomach. Sophie was just above, her head on his shoulder, breath whispering over his neck. The others were scattered around the mossy chamber, asleep or half-awake, their bodies still humming with the afterglow of what they’d become.

He moved gently, careful not to disturb them, and sat up. The shard was no longer glowing. It sat dull and still in its cradle of roots, like a heart that had finished beating. The hum of the island had softened, a low and distant thrum now - satisfied, but not silent.

Jude stood. Naked. Unashamed. The air kissed his skin as he crossed the chamber, stepping past the sleeping forms of Zoey and Stella curled together, Grace nestled against Layla’s chest, Rose lying alone with her eyes open, watching him.

He paused.

Her gaze met his, soft and unreadable. "Going somewhere?"

"I need air," he whispered.

Rose nodded. "You’ll find more than that."

He didn’t answer. Just turned and ascended the winding path that led back into the jungle.

The forest greeted him with dew and birdsong, filtered light through thick green, and the sound of leaves breathing underfoot. He walked without direction, trusting the island to guide him. His body still tingled from the night before, his chest felt fuller, like he carried something new inside him.

At a small ridge near the river, he stopped.

The water glittered strangely here - silver threads running like veins through it. The trees bent closer together, forming a canopy that shimmered faintly, like the island had turned the light into something sacred.

And there - kneeling at the edge of the river - was Natalie.

She was nude, her back glistening with water, her hands cupping it and lifting it to her mouth. When she saw him, she didn’t cover herself. She stood slowly, water trailing down her thighs, her eyes locking on his with something unreadable.

"You felt it too," she said softly.

He nodded.

Natalie walked toward him, her steps silent in the grass, her wet skin radiant in the morning light. When she reached him, she didn’t speak again - just placed her hands on his chest and leaned in to kiss him.

It wasn’t like Rose’s kiss. Or Lucy’s. Or Sophie’s.

Natalie’s kiss was hunger. Desire. Reclaiming.

Her lips moved against his with confidence, her tongue sliding into his mouth as her body pressed flush to his. The water between them made everything slick and urgent. Jude groaned against her, his hands finding the curve of her back, pulling her tighter.

"I wanted this for days," she whispered. "I just... needed to feel like myself again."

"You are," he said, lips brushing her ear.

"I’m more."

She sank to her knees, pulling him with her, the soft moss beneath cushioning their fall. Her hands were quick, practiced, tracing every line of him with intention.