Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1302

Chapter 1302: Chapter 1302

The path twisted beneath the jungle floor, into a cavern carved by ancient hands or maybe formed by the goddess herself. The walls pulsed with gold light, veins of power running through stone and root. The air was warm, wet, and thick with the scent of blooming things and the faint metallic taste of sex.

When they reached the chamber at the bottom, they found it waiting.

A cradle.

Not made of wood or stone.

But of light.

It pulsed in the center of the room, suspended above a pool of pure liquid gold. It looked like a womb. A place to rest. To incubate. To become.

The women circled it.

Jude stood at the edge.

The goddess’s voice filled them again.

"Anchor me."

Emma gasped as the voice rippled through her spine, and her legs nearly gave out. Grace held her steady, and together they looked at Jude.

"It’s you," Emma whispered.

"You’re the one," Grace added. "The one who has to give again."

Zoey stepped forward and touched Jude’s chest. "You don’t have to fuck us again," she said with a smirk, even as her voice trembled. "This time... we fuck you."

He blinked.

"I don’t understand."

Rose stepped forward, her fingers tilting his chin upward. "You gave her shape through us. But now she wants to root into you. You have to receive."

His heart pounded. His cock stirred again, hardening as their words filled his head, his soul, his skin. The goddess wasn’t finished. And neither were they.

Layla took his hand and led him to the center of the pool. The light cradled him as he sank into it, floating just above the golden surface. It wasn’t hot. It wasn’t cold. It was everything.

The women gathered around, their fingers brushing his limbs, their lips kissing his skin, his chest, his thighs, his lips.

Lucy straddled his hips again, but didn’t guide him inside her.

Instead, she leaned in, kissed him hard, and whispered, "Let us in."

And then they began.

One by one.

Each woman climbed onto him, not just to ride him, but to fill him - with moans, with lips, with her essence. He opened to them, let them take him - not just his body but his soul.

Rose kissed his throat and whispered the goddess’s name.

Sophie bit his shoulder and cried out as she pressed her body into his chest.

Natalie cupped his face, tears in her eyes. "You’re the last gift."

And when Lucy came again - wet and raw and full of heat - Jude gasped as her climax entered him.

He arched.

Screamed.

Came again - without even touching himself - flooded not just with release but with divine fire.

The goddess entered him.

And he knew her name.

All twelve of them screamed as he became the final vessel.

The root.

The flame.

And above the cradle, the light cracked open -

- And the goddess was born again.

She rose from the cradle like smoke rising from fire - soft at first, then thick, shimmering, almost liquid in motion. The light wrapped around her curves, coalescing into flesh that pulsed with every breath the twelve women took. Jude floated beneath her, suspended in the pool of golden liquid, his body still trembling from the union, from their seed, from the divinity he had just absorbed.

She hovered inches above him now, her body fully formed - breasts full and high, her belly smooth, her thighs strong, her sex glistening with golden dew. Her face held no single identity, and yet he could see all of them there - Lucy’s lips, Rose’s cheekbones, Sophie’s fierce stare. She was the sum of all his wives, and something far greater.

When she spoke, it wasn’t with sound. It was a vibration through the blood, through the root of the body where lust and spirit met.

"Now I walk with you."

Jude reached up toward her, his fingers trembling as they passed through her navel, through her glowing skin. She was solid and yet not. Her warmth was real. Her breath smelled like crushed blossoms and sex. When she smiled, he felt it between his legs.

Lucy knelt beside the pool. "She’s not just born. She’s awake."

"She wants to be touched," whispered Zoey, her voice a low breath of awe.

"She wants to touch," added Stella, already shedding her vine-woven robe and stepping into the golden water.

The goddess descended slowly.

She didn’t walk.

She melted.

Slid across the surface of the pool, until her glowing hips pressed against Jude’s chest, and then she climbed astride him. Not as a queen demanding worship, but as a lover needing completion.

She guided him inside her slowly, impossibly wet and impossibly tight, as if he was entering heat itself. Jude gasped, his eyes rolling back. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever known - hotter than fire, softer than silk, as if the goddess’s core were shaped from divine climax. She moved with purpose, her hips rolling with perfect rhythm, her golden hair spilling down like a waterfall across his chest.

He reached for her hips and felt his fingers burn - not with pain, but with ecstasy.

"She’s riding him," Grace breathed. "Like he’s her altar now."

Rose didn’t speak. She was already in the pool, pressing her lips to the goddess’s back, kissing down the curve of her spine as she rocked on Jude’s cock, her moans filling the chamber like sacred chants. Sophie followed, her hand sliding between the goddess’s thighs, her fingers stroking where Jude’s body entered hers, pressing soft circles into golden flesh, joining the rhythm, guiding it.

Lucy dove beneath the water, her mouth closing around Jude’s balls, sucking them slowly, making him writhe beneath the divine weight.

The goddess cried out - her voice shattering the silence with pleasure so thick it made vines on the cavern walls bloom in time with her moans.

She leaned down, her lips finding Jude’s, and when she kissed him, he saw everything.

The moment of their shipwreck. Everything is getting dark in that world.