Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1744

Chapter 1744: Chapter 1744

They began to build.

Not with tools, not with pain. With will. With breath. With touch.

Scarlet laid a palm to a stone and it lifted.

Zoey whispered to the vines and they wove into walls.

Sophie danced through the glade, and wherever her feet touched, the ground formed paths of living light.

Stella laughed and chased Natalie in circles, leaving blooming flowers in their wake.

Susan and Grace shaped beds of moss and cloth from golden leaves.

Emma stood by Jude, watching him. "You were always going to lead," she said.

"I never wanted to," he replied.

"That’s why you had to."

Rose kissed the back of his neck, slow and warm. "And you’re not alone."

The day passed in a blur of golden energy, of skin and light and breath. They built not a home, but a sanctuary. A place made of desire and devotion. A place made of them.

When the sun set, the sky didn’t darken. It turned lavender, then silver, then bled into a canopy of stars that moved with slow purpose.

Their new home shimmered under the constellations.

Jude stood at its center.

His wives circled him.

They were whole.

They were divine.

And the island, at last, was at peace.

Night was no longer merely darkness. It was a vast, breathing canvas that pulsed above them in waves of indigo and gold, stars winking like living embers across a sky that now responded to them. Jude lay on the moss-draped floor of their sanctuary, his head cradled in Lucy’s lap, her fingers stroking through his hair with an absentminded tenderness that made his chest ache. Around them, the others moved slowly, reverently, their golden limbs casting gentle glows as they tended to the newly formed structure - woven from light and vine, bound together by breath and touch. It had no walls, only arches of living wood, and no roof, only branches entwined like fingers stretched toward the stars.

Sophie knelt at the far end, her eyes closed, hands pressed into the earth. She whispered a word under her breath, and a cluster of nightflowers bloomed at her knees. She didn’t smile, but there was peace in the set of her shoulders, a quiet purpose that hadn’t been there before.

Emma stood near the edge, her arms crossed, watching the sky. "The stars are different tonight," she said quietly.

"They’re moving," Zoey replied, curling into Scarlet’s side, her voice drowsy and sweet. "They’re following us."

Jude sat up slowly, Lucy’s hand slipping away, though her eyes followed him with silent affection. He moved to stand near Emma, brushing past Natalie, whose fingers trailed along his side in lazy greeting.

He looked up.

The stars were shifting. Not rapidly, not enough to alarm - but definitely not still. They spun slowly, forming shapes and symbols, curling into patterns that felt familiar even though he couldn’t name them.

"It’s the language from the pool," Grace said, stepping close, her arm brushing his. "The one we felt but couldn’t speak."

Rose approached from the opposite side, her body bare but wrapped in purpose. "It’s the island’s memory," she said. "It’s dreaming through us now."

Jude turned to her. "Is this what Alara meant?"

Rose nodded. "We’re not meant to leave. We’re meant to shape."

"Shape what?"

"The next story."

Sophie opened her eyes and stood, dirt on her palms, petals clinging to her thighs. "Then we should write it."

Zoey grinned. "With what? We don’t have books anymore."

"With bodies," Lucy whispered, pressing her cheek to Jude’s back. "With touch. With heat. With truth."

A hum passed between them. No one spoke, but they all felt it - a slow awakening in their bellies, a pull between limbs, hearts, hips, mouths.

Desire wasn’t hunger anymore.

It was expression.

Stella reached for Susan, and Susan met her lips in a kiss that crackled like starlight. Natalie melted into Grace’s arms, and the two sank together into the moss. Zoey pulled Scarlet down beside her, their legs tangled, hands already searching.

Emma, hesitant but not resistant, stepped into Sophie’s orbit, and Sophie welcomed her with a kiss that deepened with every breath.

Jude turned slowly.

Lucy, Rose, and now Stella circled him. They didn’t push. They didn’t pull. They simply stood close - naked, glowing, waiting.

He reached for Lucy first.

Their mouths met softly, the kiss starting slow, then blooming, deeper, wetter, her fingers gripping his wrists like anchors. Rose came behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist, her breasts flush to his back as she kissed his neck. Stella lowered herself to her knees, her cheek pressing to his hip as she gazed up with glowing eyes.

He exhaled.

They guided him down - not with force, but with longing - and the moss swallowed them gently. Lips moved, fingers trailed, bodies arched.

He kissed Rose as Lucy mounted him. Stella’s hands traced his thighs as she kissed up his stomach. They surrounded him in warmth, in rhythm, in need. Lucy rocked over him, her breath quickening with each stroke, her mouth open, eyes locked on his. Rose kissed his chest, her hands exploring his sides, his hips. Stella’s lips followed her fingers, worshipping him like a shrine.

Across the sanctuary, the others moved as one - pairs and threes, gasps and sighs echoing like holy hymns. Sweat glistened, moans harmonized, and the earth pulsed beneath them, responding to each movement, each climax, each wordless cry of union.

Time folded again.

Jude came again and again, with Lucy, with Rose, with Stella. With Sophie later, who slid atop him and kissed his mouth like she was claiming her place again. With Emma, who whispered, "I still don’t understand," and he answered with his body. With Susan, who trembled in his arms. With Grace and Natalie at once, their mouths trading kisses above his chest as they took him together, riding in perfect synch.

The stars above them burned brighter.

By the time it ended - if it ended - they lay in a single, tangled mass.