Chapter 8 - A memory of first time

The black silk sheets of Demonte House's bedroom clung to Rahil's ghostly form, their cool touch a stark contrast to the heat still radiating from his body. Vikra lay curled against his left side, her curves pressed close, her breath slow and contented, her dark hair spilling across his chest like ink. Dante sprawled on his right, her milf-like body half-draped over him, her Victorian gown a tattered memory, her lips curved in a satisfied smirk even in sleep. The air was heavy with the fading scent of jasmine and sweat, the walls of the cursed mansion silent for now, as if sated by the storm of passion that had just passed. The graveyard beneath the house whispered faintly, but Rahil's mind was elsewhere, drifting back to a moment that felt like a lifetime ago—his first time in this strange, lust-soaked world, with Saya.He closed his eyes, and the memory flooded in, vivid and raw, pulling him away from the decaying grandeur of Demonte House to a glowing alley in the ghost city of Japan, where pink skies and floating islands had first disoriented him. Saya, the world's first female ghost, born from his Gender Bender skill, had been his accidental creation—a transformation that had shaken him to his core. And yet, that first night with her had been something else entirely, a collision of anger, confusion, and a desire he hadn't known he could feel.The alley was bathed in the soft glow of spectral lanterns, their light flickering like fireflies against the upside-down river in the sky. Saya stood before him, her newly formed body a vision of ethereal beauty—long silver hair cascading down her back, her misty dress clinging to curves that seemed to defy the ghostly plane. Her violet eyes shimmered with a mix of awe and arousal, her loyalty to Rahil absolute after his power had reshaped her from a smug male spirit into this breathtaking woman. The air was thick with the ghost city's strange energy, a hum of desire that pulsed through the streets, but in that moment, it was just them—Rahil, a dead homophobe trapped in a world he despised, and Saya, his unintended bride."You… made me," Saya had whispered, her voice like glass chimes, her fingers brushing his translucent arm. Her touch sent a spark through him, igniting something he'd buried deep—something that scared him more than the city's endless parade of male couples. He'd wanted to push her away, to scream that this was wrong, unnatural, but her gaze held him, soft yet unyielding, and the city's intoxicating aura drowned his protests."Saya," he'd growled, his voice rough, "this isn't—I don't—" But his words faltered as she stepped closer, her body pressing against his, her warmth cutting through his ghostly chill. Her lips hovered near his, her breath sweet like ectoplasm and moonlight. "I'm yours," she murmured, her hands sliding up his chest, tugging at the edges of his hoodie, which shimmered and dissolved under her touch.He'd resisted for a heartbeat, his old hatred clawing at him, but then her lips met his, and the world tilted. Her kiss was fierce, hungry, a mix of devotion and defiance, as if she was claiming him as much as he'd claimed her. Rahil groaned, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush, her misty dress slipping away to reveal glowing skin that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. The alley's lanterns flared, casting shadows that danced like lovers, and the upside-down river above rippled as if mirroring their intensity.Saya pushed him against the alley wall, her fingers deftly unraveling what remained of his clothes, leaving him bare under the spectral light. His hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, each touch drawing a soft moan from her lips. She was warm, impossibly so for a ghost, her skin like silk under his fingers, her scent intoxicating—jasmine, yes, but also something uniquely hers, like rain on sacred stones. Rahil's breath hitched as she kissed down his jaw, his neck, her lips teasing, her fangs grazing just enough to make him shudder.He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and the alley seemed to pulse with their rhythm. Saya's moans were soft at first, like whispers of wind, but grew sharper, more desperate as he pressed himself against her, their bodies merging in a way that felt both physical and spiritual. The ground beneath them trembled, the city's energy amplifying their connection, and Rahil felt a surge of power—not just desire, but something deeper, as if his soul was binding to hers. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in, her violet eyes locked on his, wide with need. "Rahil," she gasped, her voice a plea, a prayer, and he answered with a thrust that made her cry out, her body arching against him.The lanterns flared brighter, their light bathing the alley in a pink glow, and the river above churned, its currents mirroring their frantic pace. Saya's lips found his again, her kiss a mix of sweetness and fire, her tongue exploring his mouth as their bodies moved in sync. Each thrust was a spark, a collision of their essences, and Rahil felt himself unraveling, his old anger and fear burning away in the heat of her. Her moans grew louder, a melody that echoed through the alley, and he matched her, his groans rough, primal, as they climbed toward release. The city itself seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with their shared energy, until Saya's cry shattered the silence, her body trembling against his as she reached her peak. Rahil followed, a wave of pleasure crashing through him, his ghostly form glowing brighter as their souls intertwined, sealing their bond in a burst of light.They collapsed against the wall, breathless, Saya's head resting on his chest, her silver hair tangled around them. The alley was quiet now, the lanterns dimming, the river calming. Rahil held her, his heart pounding, his mind reeling. He'd hated this world, hated its rules, its open desire, but with Saya in his arms, he felt something shift—a crack in his hatred, a flicker of something softer, something he couldn't name.