Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1753

And when the others touched it too, their memories joined his.

They shared each other completely, intimately, without fear or shame. It wasn’t just sex. It was every kind of nakedness. And in that complete vulnerability, something new bloomed.

The tree shimmered.

And petals fell.

Golden.

They drifted through the hall like blessings.

And the second island hummed.

Hours passed. Maybe more. Time was irrelevant here. They explored the sanctuary together - rooms forming as they imagined them, shaped by whim and longing. A bathing chamber where the water sang. A sleeping hall with a bed large enough for all of them, its sheets spun from moss-light and warmth. A garden with fruits that glowed and whispered secrets when plucked. It was magic, but not foreign. It was theirs.

And when night finally came - not with darkness, but with a deepening indigo hue across the sky - they gathered in the central hall beneath the tree.

Naked.

Tired.

Whole.

Jude lay on his back in the mossy bed, arms open, his breath slow. One by one, they came to him. First Lucy, curling at his side. Then Rose, draping over his chest. Zoey sprawled across his legs with a lazy grin. Grace, silent and still, slid in beside his shoulder, her head against his arm.

Emma tucked her face into his neck. Stella pressed herself to his back. Scarlet curled like a cat by his hip. Susan whispered something soft as she pressed kisses to his jaw.

Layla took his hand.

Natalie kissed his temple.

And Sophie, fierce and warm, lay across his chest, eyes meeting his.

"I was afraid of this," she murmured.

"What?" he asked.

"Belonging," she said. "Needing someone. Needing all of you."

He kissed her. "You don’t have to need us. You just have to be here."

She kissed him harder, slower. "I’m here."

And they made love again - not with urgency, but as a sacrament. Each woman took her time with him, worshipped and was worshipped, touched and was touched. There was no jealousy, no rush. Just presence. Just reverence. Their bodies met in slow rhythm, the tree glowing brighter each time someone reached the edge and fell into pleasure with a cry that echoed through the sanctuary like prayer.

Jude gave himself to each one. Loved them not as parts, but as whole beings. And they gave themselves to him, not in surrender, but in offering.

They came together in unity, like the roots of the island and the stars of the sky had entwined through them.

And when the last moan faded into silence, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs, glistening, breathless, utterly at peace.

The tree pulsed once more.

And outside, the second island sighed.

It had begun.

The warmth lingered long after their bodies stilled. Not just warmth between skin, but something deeper - an afterglow that threaded through their bones, tying them not just to one another, but to the land itself. The second island cradled them like a mother would her children, humming beneath the moss-lined floor, the luminous tree pulsing softly at the core of their shared sanctuary. Jude lay in the center, arms splayed, heart thrumming in rhythm with the glowing bark above. Lucy’s fingers danced lazily across his chest, her breath warm against his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to find her watching him, golden flecks still sparkling in her gaze. "You feel it, don’t you?" she whispered.

He nodded, brushing a thumb along her jaw. "It’s different here. Not like the first island."

"It’s deeper," Rose murmured from beside them. Her voice was honey-drenched, low and wise. "This place is a root, Jude. One buried beneath time."

Stella stirred on his other side, stretching like a waking animal. "It’s inside me now. I feel... heavier. Not in body. In meaning."

"Because we’ve been claimed," Emma whispered, sitting up and hugging her knees. "And we’ve claimed it back."

The others slowly roused, sleepy and glowing, each marked by something subtle and permanent. Layla reached over Jude to kiss Zoey, soft and lingering. Susan and Grace curled against each other, fingers laced, sharing a quiet smile. Scarlet, silent and still, stared up at the tree with wide eyes, the light reflecting on her bare skin like a second sunrise. And Natalie, ever quiet, pressed her palm to the moss floor and whispered something only the island could hear.

Sophie stood first, naked and proud, her silhouette framed by the soft indigo light filtering in from the open archway. "We need to understand this place."

Jude sat up, stretching, his muscles sore in the best ways. "We already do."

"No," she said, her eyes sharp. "We understand what it feels like. But what is it? Who built it? Was it Alara? Or something older?"

Rose stood beside her, wrapping her hair into a loose braid. "Alara said we were the first to return, not the first to exist here. That means others came before her. This place might be as old as the sky."

Zoey stood too, tying a vine around her hips, grinning as she glanced at the open arch. "Then let’s go find out. I want to see what else this floating paradise hides."

Jude rose, taking Lucy’s hand, then offered his other to Emma. "Let’s explore."

The group moved as one, barefoot and light, stepping out of the sanctuary onto the glowing moss beyond. The second island stretched wide now, more vibrant with every passing moment, like their very presence nourished it. Paths formed where they walked, the land responding to their movement, petals opening, trees bowing slightly. There were no threats. No beasts. No watchers. Just wind, light, and the thrum of ancient memory.

They reached a cliffside clearing where the land fell away to open sky. Far below, the first island slumbered, its rivers like silver veins, its forests dark and shimmering with unknown dreams. Jude stood at the edge, the wind tousling his hair, and felt the fullness of it - the life he’d found, the women who walked beside him, the strange, sacred bond between them and this living world.