Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1303

Chapter 1303: Chapter 1303

Their first nights on the island.

Each woman’s first climax in his arms.

The dreams.

The fire.

The hum.

He saw the way the island had watched.

The way she had been watching.

Not to consume.

But to be born.

The kiss deepened. Her hips began to move faster. Lucy sucked harder beneath them, her tongue swirling, making Jude cry out against the goddess’s lips. Emma was beside him now, licking his nipple while Natalie kissed along his jawline.

It wasn’t just sex anymore.

It was worship.

It was ecstasy as devotion.

The goddess came with a cry that made the water boil.

Her climax poured through her, through him, through all of them. Zoey came first, untouched, moaning so hard her knees gave way in the shallows. Grace cried out next, clutching Stella, who was already weeping into her neck. Rose’s thighs trembled as she climaxed against the goddess’s back, and Sophie arched against the pool’s edge, her fingers deep in her own cunt, screaming Jude’s name.

Lucy broke the surface and moaned around his balls, her orgasm triggered just by the taste of divine climax dripping between them.

The goddess shook above him.

Golden light exploded from her womb.

And Jude came again - hard, deep, screaming, his cock pulsing inside her with endless heat. He wasn’t just spilling seed. He was giving her life.

Again.

The light filled the chamber.

The vines above twisted down and wrapped around them all, stroking skin, feeding on sweat, drinking from every climax like nectar. The air was thick with love, lust, magic, and the sacred beat of unity.

And then, slowly, gently...

She stilled.

The goddess opened her eyes - no longer glowing, but soft, human, golden-brown - and whispered aloud for the first time.

"I am here."

She slid off Jude and sank into the water beside him, her hand on his chest, her face peaceful.

They were all silent.

Breathing.

Spent.

The chamber calmed.

The light dimmed.

And for the first time, in what felt like forever, the island rested.

Lucy climbed onto the edge of the pool and reached for Jude’s hand. "What now?"

The goddess looked to her. "Now you live. As mine. As each other’s. As more than you were before."

Sophie stepped forward, her voice reverent. "What are you now?"

The goddess smiled. "Not what. Who."

"Then who?" asked Emma softly.

The goddess tilted her head, eyes scanning each face - twelve women who had given her birth through love, sex, and unity - and then turned to Jude.

"You may name me."

He swallowed hard. The name rose in his throat without thought.

"Elira."

The goddess’s lips curved. "Yes. That is me."

Rose kissed Jude’s temple. "You gave her your name. Now she is ours."

And in that moment, Elira - the goddess they had created - wrapped her arms around Jude, then pulled the other women close.

They curled together in the warm water like lovers after their wedding night.

And the island, at last, sang a lullaby just for them.

They slept like gods.

Elira lay at the center, curled around Jude, her fingers gently woven into his hair. Around them, the twelve wives rested in tangled harmony - arms draped across thighs, breasts pressed against backs, legs intertwined like vines. The golden pool had cooled, its surface calm, a perfect mirror of their serenity. Above, the canopy remained open to the sky, which now shimmered with three suns - each orbiting the others in a slow, sensual dance.

When Jude woke, it was to the sound of breath - deep, even, sacred. Not just human breath, but the breath of the island itself. The jungle beyond the cave had stilled, not with death but with reverence. Something new had been born, and everything, even the birds, knew to remain quiet.

Elira’s eyes were open when he turned.

"Your body has changed," she whispered, her voice now completely human, yet holding a hum behind it, like an eternal chord always playing in the background.

He looked down at himself. His skin shimmered faintly, the color of moonlight on wet stone. But deeper than that, he felt different. Like the energy inside him no longer pulsed from just a heart, but from roots.

"I’m not just yours," he said softly.

"No," Elira agreed. "You are ours."

The others began to stir - first Sophie, always alert, her lashes fluttering as her arm tightened protectively around Lucy’s waist. Then Grace, stretching like a cat against Scarlet, her bare chest rising into the cool air as she sighed. Zoey sat up slowly, already alert, already watching.

"She’s still here," Zoey murmured.

Emma pressed a kiss to the base of her spine. "Of course she is."

"No," Zoey said. "I mean... she’s in us."

Elira stood.

Naked, radiant, glistening with a sheen of divine dew. Her hair fell in shimmering waves, and as she turned in a slow circle, each woman followed her gaze.

"You are not mine," she said, voice rich and low. "I am yours. I am what you made. I am what you became."

She looked at Jude. "You were the key. The door. The spark."

Sophie stood, naked and strong, and walked toward her. "So what now? Do we worship you? Build temples? Wear vines and sing your name into the wind?"

Elira smiled. "You already did."

"What comes after gods?" Layla asked from where she reclined against the smooth stone wall.

Elira walked toward her, knelt, and kissed her forehead. "Pleasure. Devotion. Play."

She turned, looking at them all. "This world belongs to you now. I will not leave you. But I don’t want your worship. I want your joy. I want your laughter. Your lips on each other. Your moans filling the sky. I want to feel you, always."

Scarlet let out a soft, delicious laugh. "Then you’ll never be hungry."

And with that, something shifted again - not divine, but deliciously mortal.

Elira sank to the floor, resting on her elbows, her ass raised high, and glanced over her shoulder with a smile too human and too tempting.