Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 1318

Chapter 1318: Chapter 1318

When Jude opened his eyes, the sky above the treetop canopy had shifted to a molten gold, stained with amber streaks and deep orange fire. The light wasn’t just sunset - it was something older, something sacred. The forest shimmered with the residue of touch and breath, heavy with musk and sweetness, like the very air was laced with the echo of moans. He was still on the altar, the living throne of moss and vine, and every inch of his skin buzzed like it remembered every kiss, every tongue, every slow grind of hips against his.

Lucy was the first he saw - curled up along his side, one leg draped over his thighs, her arm across his chest, lips parted with a sleepy smile. Her skin glowed in the light like she’d been anointed, and her fingers twitched faintly against him as if she dreamed of touching him still. Zoey was sprawled across his legs, one hand between her own thighs even in sleep, her hair tangled across his stomach, smelling of sweat, sex, and island flowers. Sophie was half-sitting near his shoulder, awake but quiet, eyes tracing the shapes of the petals above them.

"You’re still with us," she murmured, not a question.

He turned his head to her. "I wasn’t sure I would be."

"You weren’t," she said softly, brushing a hand down his chest. "But we pulled you back."

He lifted a hand and tangled his fingers with hers. Her palm was warm, still trembling faintly. "You didn’t seem afraid."

"I was," she whispered, leaning down to kiss his jaw. "But I wanted to follow you more than I wanted to run."

Emma stirred nearby, naked and covered in dew. She stretched like a panther, the curve of her body gleaming. "He was glowing," she said sleepily. "In the dark. His skin... lit from the inside."

"That’s not just him anymore," Stella said from the other side of the altar. She was sitting cross-legged, arms resting on her knees, eyes heavy-lidded. "That’s the island’s light. It’s in all of us now."

Jude sat up slowly, careful not to wake Lucy or Zoey as their limbs slid from his body. His cock ached - not from pain, but from overuse, from the insatiable worship that had lasted into dreams and deeper. Even now, it twitched faintly, as if it hadn’t had enough, as if their bodies had only primed something greater.

Natalie approached, her hips swaying lazily. She was barefoot, her skin painted with streaks of glowing nectar from the tree above. She climbed onto the altar without a word and straddled Jude’s lap, her body pressing against his, her breasts flat against his chest.

"You feel it, don’t you?" she whispered, grinding softly against him. "The hum in your spine."

He nodded. "It won’t stop."

"It never will now."

She kissed him - slow and deep, her tongue seeking his like a secret - and rocked her hips forward until his cock nestled between her slick folds. They both moaned into each other’s mouths, even though he hadn’t entered her yet.

But she didn’t take him right away. She stayed there, teasing, sliding against him like velvet fire. "You’re more than man now," she murmured. "You’re source."

"Source of what?" he gasped, gripping her hips.

"Everything," Grace whispered from nearby, crawling across the altar to press her lips to Jude’s neck. "Pleasure. Love. Creation. You’re our seed and our bloom."

Scarlet climbed up beside Lucy, brushing her fingers through her hair, kissing the edge of her ear. "And we’ll give you back more than you give."

Natalie lifted herself and slowly lowered onto him, moaning softly as his cock slid inside her, deep and perfect. Her pussy clenched around him like a soft fist, welcoming him, holding him. Her eyes fluttered closed as she began to move, not frantic or rough - just steady, riding him with reverence.

Jude’s head fell back, the moss catching him like soft tongues.

She fucked him slow.

And then Grace kissed him.

Not on the mouth - on the heart.

Her lips brushed the center of his chest, where the beat was strongest. Her fingers tangled with Natalie’s, their bodies moving together, surrounding him in warmth and wetness and rhythm. It wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t just pleasure.

It was a ritual.

Each thrust sent pulses through the altar. The vines coiled tighter, blooming brighter. Above them, the petals of the black tree began to tremble, shedding silver dust down like stars. Natalie cried out as her orgasm hit, her walls milking him with such intensity he nearly came with her.

But he didn’t.

Not yet.

Rose approached from the shadows, her body painted with earth and petal stains, her hair braided with bones and blossoms. She was radiant in her darkness, powerful in her softness.

"It’s time," she said. "For all of us."

She climbed onto the altar and knelt beside him. Natalie stayed atop him, her breath shuddering, hips still grinding in aftershocks.

Rose reached down and placed her hand between them - right where they were joined - and smiled as her fingers gathered both their wetness.

She pressed it to Jude’s lips.

"Taste the truth."

He licked her fingers clean, and it hit him - an explosion of flavor, heat, and memory. The taste of all of them. Earth and fruit and desire and history. His eyes rolled back as his body jerked in pleasure, and Natalie’s pussy clenched tighter, drawing him deeper.

Then they moved again.

Together.

Rose straddled his chest, her breasts swaying over him, nipples brushing his lips. He sucked her slowly, one then the other, while Natalie kept riding his cock like a prayer. Sophie joined behind her, fingers in Rose’s hair, whispering words that didn’t exist outside this island.

Jude came again.

Hard.

So hard it ripped a sound from his throat he didn’t know he could make. His body arched, pulsed, emptied - but not just into Natalie. Into the altar. Into the island. He felt it being absorbed, carried, echoed.