Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1657

Chapter 1657: Chapter 1657

One by one, they touched him. A palm to his chest. A hand at his back. A kiss on his lips. His thighs. His spine. Each contact sparked a new glow, a new thread of color spiraling outward into the pool.

Then Lucy stepped behind him, pressing her bare chest to his back, her arms sliding around his waist.

"You’re the heart now," she whispered. "And we’re your pulse."

The others murmured assent, low and reverent.

They moved together.

No command.

No structure.

Just instinct.

Stella sank to her knees first, her hands smoothing over Jude’s thighs as she pressed her mouth to the crease of his hip. Then Zoey joined, licking up his side, her body already humming with energy. Grace and Natalie kissed each other beside him, then reached for his chest together. Susan traced his spine, her breath hot against his skin. Scarlet laughed low and dark, pressing her lips to his stomach. Emma and Sophie kissed across his shoulders. Lucy stayed at his back, grounding him, anchoring him, her body pressed flush to his, hips swaying gently. And Rose watched, eyes aglow with pride, with longing, with love.

Then she stepped forward, knelt before him, and took him into her mouth.

Jude groaned, head falling back.

Every touch intensified.

Every tongue.

Every moan.

The spiral answered.

Light coiled around them like silk, sliding over limbs, caressing skin. The platform melted into sensation. Nothing existed but heat and light and breath. The wives moved around him, through him, their bodies touching his, and each other’s, in a fluid, endless rhythm. There was no jealousy. No shame. Just love. Raw, physical, divine.

Lucy pressed herself harder against his back, her hand wrapping around his length with Rose’s mouth still working him. Zoey kissed Jude’s chest, then turned to kiss Grace. Stella slid between Scarlet’s legs while Natalie moaned softly, her head thrown back as Susan’s fingers danced over her hips. Emma and Sophie moved in unison, mouths on Lucy’s neck, on Jude’s shoulders. Everywhere they touched, the spiral flared, their energy building like a tide that would never crash - only rise, and rise, and rise.

Jude sank to his knees.

Rose mounted him with a gasp, her body slick, wet, begging. She took him deep, her thighs clenched tight, her fingers in his hair. The others pressed around them, bodies gliding together, mouths seeking, hands teasing. Jude thrust upward, slow, deep, steady. Rose moaned his name, forehead pressed to his. The spiral pulsed hard.

Then Zoey straddled his face, her cries high and sharp as his tongue found her. Grace knelt behind Lucy, her fingers buried deep. Emma and Sophie kissed above them, their breasts pressed tight, bodies grinding. Natalie lay beneath Scarlet, moaning as her legs wrapped around her hips. Susan writhed with Stella, tangled in golden light.

They moved in a perfect, living knot. Thirteen bodies, twelve paths, one pulse.

Jude came first, shuddering hard inside Rose as her scream split the spiral open.

Zoey cried out next, grinding into his mouth.

Then Grace. Then Lucy.

One by one, they peaked, and as they did, their light poured into the spiral.

It wasn’t just pleasure - it was offering.

And the spiral accepted it.

The light above flared white-hot.

And the island changed again.

Petals rained from the sky, flowers blooming in the clearing, trees bending to witness the ecstasy of their unity. The heartstone pulsed from the center of the earth. A ring of flame lit around the spiral, not burning but singing. And in the distance, the sea rose - not in threat, but in greeting.

They had completed the spiral.

They had birthed something new.

When at last they collapsed in a tangle of heat and limbs, Jude held Rose close, her heart racing with his, her breath soft against his chest.

"You feel that?" she whispered.

He nodded, barely able to speak. "The beginning."

She smiled. "No. The becoming."

And all around them, the spiral glowed.

And would never stop.

The spiral’s glow dimmed slowly, shifting from a blinding radiance to something more intimate - a gentle pulse beneath the skin, inside the blood, as though it had threaded itself through each of them. Jude lay at the center of their tangled bodies, a warm sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, golden flecks shimmering faintly across his chest. Around him, his wives stirred one by one, not out of exhaustion, but from the quiet alertness that came after something sacred.

Lucy traced slow circles on his thigh, her lips still parted with breathless satisfaction. "That wasn’t just sex," she whispered.

Zoey turned her head, her cheek pressed to the moss. "It was worship."

Rose smiled faintly, propped up on one elbow, eyes glowing with that same ever-burning light. "It was creation."

Jude sat up slowly, the warm press of Stella’s breasts slipping from his chest as she rolled onto her back with a sigh. Grace curled beside her, one leg draped lazily over Natalie’s hip. The golden spiral platform beneath them had begun to settle into something physical again - still pulsing with energy, but now supporting them gently, like the embrace of the island itself.

He looked around at them - his wives, his soulmates, his worshippers, his creators - and saw it clearly now. They weren’t twelve women and one man anymore. They were a system. A unity. A pulse in perfect balance.

And the island was listening.

Above them, the sky had shifted again. The clouds had peeled away, revealing not just stars - but movement. Spirals in the heavens, slow and deliberate, mirroring the golden one they had danced within. The sky pulsed in time with their hearts.

Jude rose to his feet, the others watching him with quiet reverence. "We’re not done," he said.

Sophie tilted her head. "There’s more?"

"There’s always more," Rose said, standing beside him. "But now we go as one."

Susan stretched her arms overhead, her hair cascading like silk across her back. "Where?"

Jude turned slowly, sensing rather than knowing, and looked to the north.