Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1591

Chapter 1591: Chapter 1591

Rose came to him, her hair woven now with strands of silver vine that shimmered faintly. She pressed her hands to his chest, palms flat over his heart, and looked up into his eyes. "The island has accepted you."

"And you?" he asked softly.

She smiled and rose to her toes, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "I accepted you the moment I first touched you."

Her fingers slid down his sides, slow and familiar. "But this? This is more than any of us expected."

Sophie stepped into view, her body wrapped in nothing but glowing leaves and the remnants of heat. "We felt it too. When the seed pulsed. It spoke to us."

"What did it say?" he asked, curious.

"That this was only the beginning," she murmured. "That more is coming."

Susan came forward now, her fingers laced with Natalie’s. "We think the island wants more. Not just pleasure. Not just light. But intention."

"It wants to grow," Natalie added. "With us."

Zoey flopped into his lap, her skin still damp from sweat and river, the edges of her lips tasting of some fruit Jude hadn’t seen before. "We’re basically gods now," she purred. "Or really sexy gardeners."

Lucy, her eyes wild and golden, leaned her head on his shoulder. "It wants children."

That silenced the circle.

The thought had been whispered through the visions, of course, glimpsed in the glow of possible futures. But hearing it aloud made something inside Jude tighten. Not with fear. With awe.

"Are we ready for that?" he asked quietly.

Scarlet moved forward, her gaze unreadable. "We’re not talking about raising them in some house with picket fences."

"No," Grace agreed. "We’d raise them in the rhythm of the island. In love. In light."

Emma sat down beside him. "They’d never know pain. Never know fear. Only this." She gestured around them. "Only us."

"But they’d be more than just ours," Lucy said softly. "They’d be of the island. Like Alara was."

Jude took a slow breath and looked around at the twelve faces watching him, glowing in the light of two moons, framed in petals and gold.

"I would raise them with you," he said. "All of you. If that’s what we choose."

Stella smiled. "Then let’s choose."

They formed a circle again, tighter now, seated knee to knee, hand in hand. The tree shimmered above them. The seed below pulsed once more, a heartbeat responding to their unity.

"We vow," Rose whispered, "to grow with this place. To become more. To carry love forward, not just for us, but for whatever comes next."

They echoed her in turn - twelve voices, and his.

Jude felt the moment it happened.

A new pulse shot through the ground beneath them, warm and deep. The seed responded, splitting open just a fraction - and a tiny sprout emerged, glowing gold at the tip.

The island heard.

And answered.

A slow ripple of wind passed through the trees, as if every branch bent closer in approval.

Then Lucy leaned in and kissed him. No prelude. Just mouth to mouth, slow and passionate. Her fingers gripped his jaw. Her body pressed to his. And suddenly the circle wasn’t just symbolic - it was magnetic.

The others followed.

Hands moved. Bodies slid. Mouths opened.

They didn’t need to plan it. They just knew.

Jude was drawn to them, one after another, worshipped with slow hands and soft lips. Rose straddled him first, guiding him in with a sigh of belonging that shook the air. Her hips moved like song. Like prophecy.

When she collapsed beside him, Lucy took her place, grinding against him with a need as sacred as it was primal. She kissed his chest, his mouth, his throat, each thrust drawing out a new breathless moan.

Zoey took him next, wild and wet and beautiful, her fingers tangled in his hair, her teeth grazing his jaw as she whispered promises into his ear.

Then Stella. Then Grace. Then Scarlet. Then Natalie.

By the time Emma climbed into his lap, tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes - not sadness, but release. "We’re going to make something beautiful," she whispered as she moved against him.

Susan, shy and trembling, came last. He held her as she lowered onto him, his hands at her hips, his lips brushing her shoulder. She rode him slow, each motion a prayer. And when she came, her whole body lit with gold.

They finished as they’d started - in a circle, panting, tangled, held.

Jude lay in the center again, arms filled with glowing, satiated women. His body ached, but not in pain - in use. In purpose. His heart thundered with a joy so immense he thought it might lift him from the ground and plant him among the stars.

Rose brushed her fingers down his chest. "You understand now?"

"I think I do."

"It’s not about legacy. Not about blood."

"It’s about becoming," he said.

Lucy kissed his ribs. "And beginning again."

He looked at the tiny sprout in the soil beside them.

And for the first time, he knew - not just believed, knew - that their love was not the end of a story.

It was only the seed.

The air that settled around them was thick with a sacred kind of silence - not absence, but reverence. Even the wind had stilled, as if the island itself was holding its breath. The tiny golden sprout beside them shimmered with life, each tender leaf no bigger than a thumbprint, yet pulsing with an energy that felt as ancient as the stars. Jude sat up slowly, cradling Lucy against him, her skin still warm from everything they’d shared. She looked down at the sprout with wonder in her eyes, her fingers brushing over it like it was made of fragile stardust.

"It’s alive," she whispered.

"It’s watching us," Zoey added, rolling onto her side beside Scarlet, her voice breathy with awe.

Rose knelt beside it, her hand hovering just above the small glowing leaves. "It’s more than alive. It’s aware."