Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1648

Chapter 1648: Chapter 1648

A hum rose from the trees. Flowers bloomed instantly, vines twisting around trunks in spiraled paths. The moss beneath their feet grew thicker, warmer, and in the distance, the air itself rippled - like the veil between now and something greater had thinned.

Then, without a word, the river parted.

Not dried.

Not empty.

Just moved aside - revealing a glowing path of stone beneath.

They gasped.

The stones shimmered, leading into a grove none of them had noticed before. The air that flowed from it was warm, fragrant with jasmine, honey, and something wilder. Older.

"Follow it," Spira whispered. "Together."

And they did.

Bare feet pressing into the slick, glowing stone, fingers linked, bodies moving as one. Jude led them, Sophie and Lucy at his sides, Rose close behind. The others followed in silence. The further they walked, the warmer the air became - not in temperature, but in sensation. Like it was alive. Like it touched them in places unseen.

The grove opened suddenly, encircled by trees that bent toward each other to form a natural dome. Petals rained softly from above, drifting through shafts of gold light. In the center lay a platform of pale stone etched with spiral markings.

At its heart, the third spiral hovered.

It was made entirely of light.

Not drawn in lines, not carved in stone.

But suspended - woven from gold and heat and breath.

And it pulsed.

Once.

Then again.

And with each pulse, the air trembled.

Rose gasped. "It’s sentient."

"It’s waiting," Grace said softly.

"For us," Stella added, stepping forward with slow reverence.

The spiral of light began to descend, slowly, like a kiss lowered toward skin. Jude reached for it instinctively - but the light paused.

And then split.

Into twelve smaller spirals.

Each one drifting toward a woman.

Zoey flinched as hers entered her chest like a beam of heat. Natalie moaned softly, her back arching. Susan whimpered and dropped to her knees, overcome. One by one, each woman was marked anew - not just with a symbol, but with a spark. A piece of the third spiral entered them.

Only Jude remained untouched.

Until all twelve turned to him.

Rose stepped forward and kissed him hard - tongue deep, breath fierce.

As she pulled back, she said, "You are the thirteenth."

The remaining light surged into him.

Jude cried out, falling to his knees, hands clutching the moss as the spiral carved itself into his back - not just the symbol, but the meaning. He saw the twelve women around him, not as individuals, but as parts of one whole. He felt their love, their fears, their hunger. He felt their orgasms in his bones. Their trust in his blood. Their breath in his lungs.

When he looked up, the women surrounded him.

Naked.

Glowing.

Powerful.

And suddenly, they moved.

Toward him.

Together.

There was no need for invitation.

He lay back, trembling, and Sophie crawled over him first, straddling his waist, her eyes heavy with heat. "Let us give it what it wants," she whispered.

"What does it want?" he breathed.

Rose kissed his throat. "Us."

They kissed him one after another - mouths that burned, tongues that tasted of starlight. Lucy’s hands slid over his thighs. Grace’s lips closed around his fingers. Scarlet kissed his ankles. Zoey and Stella held his arms down while Natalie began to ride his thigh in slow, aching circles, moaning against his neck.

And then Sophie took him in.

His moan was swallowed by Emma’s mouth. Serin knelt behind him, hands stroking his back, whispering something that felt like a spell. Spira stood beside them all, eyes wide, mouth parted in awe, absorbing it like a student watching gods make a universe from sweat and devotion.

Bodies layered.

Hands tangled.

Breasts pressed to chests.

Tongues flicked over thighs and nipples and necks.

Jude didn’t know whose mouth was on his chest, whose hand stroked his jaw, whose tongue was on his inner thigh. It didn’t matter. They were one now. All of them.

And when he came - inside Sophie, moaning her name like it was the first word ever spoken - the spiral above exploded.

Not into pieces.

Into stars.

The light shot upward, carving new constellations into the daylight sky, and the forest roared - not in sound, but in sensation.

Ecstasy.

Completion.

Creation.

When it was done, they collapsed over one another like petals folding at dusk. The spiral faded slowly from the sky, its light absorbed into the canopy, into the moss, into the stone.

Jude cradled Sophie against his chest.

Serin curled beside them.

Spira lay at their feet, glowing like a second moon.

Rose whispered, "We’ve fed it."

Lucy murmured, "We’ve become it."

Sophie exhaled, her breath warm against Jude’s chest. "So what now?"

And from the shadows of the trees, a new voice answered.

Feminine.

Familiar.

"Now," said Alara, stepping into the grove once more, "you begin the fourth."

Jude sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Sophie’s resting form draped over his chest. Her cheek was pressed to his skin, her breath slow and even, the warmth of her body still pulsing with the golden afterglow of what they had done. Around him, the others lay tangled in gentle stillness, limbs over limbs, hair spread across moss like strands of light. The forest grove was quiet, but not silent - there was a hum now, soft and low, like the Earth was purring beneath them. The third spiral had vanished into the trees and sky, but its imprint still lived in their bones.

Alara stepped forward, her bare feet brushing petals aside with every stride. The spirals on her skin pulsed with a steady rhythm, and behind her, the grove seemed to bloom wider, vines parting to allow more golden sunlight to spill in. She looked at Jude not as a guide now, not as a spirit or legend, but as an equal.

"You’re ready," she said.

"For what?" Jude asked, his voice raw with everything he’d just given, everything he’d become.

"For the fourth spiral," Alara replied.