Faith gasped softly, her body tensing reflexively at first, but soon relaxing into the rhythm set by Edouard's movements. Their moans echoed throughout the otherwise silent house, reverberating through its ancient walls like a siren song summoning the attention of the other catgirls. But for now, they remained hidden, watching silently from the shadows, allowing their master (for however fleeting this arrangement might prove) to enjoy his prize uninterrupted.

In response, Faith arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward eagerly. Her breath came faster and more ragged as Edouard picked up speed, driving deeper inside her. A low, throaty growl escaped her lips, halfway between pleasure and pain. It was unlike anything she'd experienced since… Since long ago, when she still possessed flesh and blood instead of spectral energy bound by eternal vengeance. But those thoughts quickly fled her mind as the ecstatic waves crashed down upon them, engulfing them both in a sea of blissful release. Sweat trickled down their brows, mixing with tears of joy and relief. For once, maybe, just maybe, they finally found solace in each other's arms.

Suddenly, Edouard felt something brush against his sensitive testicles, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure coursing through him. His orgasm was mere seconds away, but whatever or whomever was playing with him seemed determined to push him over the edge. "Wait!" he managed to croak out, clutching desperately onto Faith's waist, his fingers digging deep into her ethereal form. "Whoever—whatever—stop!" But it was too late. In a single powerful surge, Edouard released himself into Faith, his seed spilling into her ghostly womb. And as the wave subsided, leaving him panting heavily, he opened his eyes cautiously… only to find no sign of any intruder. Confused, aroused, and thoroughly disorientated, he collapsed next to Faith, who lay motionless beside him, their joined forms gradually dissipating into nothingness.

Faith looked at Edouard curiously before nodding obediently. She leaned over him, her soft, warm tongue tracing along his neck and earlobes teasingly before enveloping his member in her velvety mouth. As she began sucking rhythmically, her slender arms wrapped around him tightly, drawing him closer into her embrace. Meanwhile, the rest of the catgirls gathered around the couple, watching silently yet avidly, their eyes shimmering with interest and desire. Some whispered quietly amongst themselves, sharing stories about human male prowess while others simply savored the rare sight of such raw passion unfolding right before their very eyes.

When Edouard stirred awake, he groaned softly, feeling pleasantly sore and satisfied. Opening his eyes slowly, he took inventory of his surroundings - darkened bedroom furnished with Victorian-era decor, curtains drawn shutting out the early morning light. But where… ah yes, Faith. He turned towards her, expecting to see the curvaceous figure of his lover nestled cozily against him. Instead, he found an empty space, the sheets rumpled and tangled messily. Rolling over, Edouard saw Faith sitting primly on the end of the bed, demurely crossing her legs beneath her skirt. "Good morning," she greeted him sweetly, her voice carrying a hint of concern. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

Faith blushed crimson at the compliment, ducking bashfully behind her fan. "Thank you, sir," she murmured modestly. "I am glad you were pleased." She hesitated momentarily before venturing tentatively, "Would you like breakfast served in your chambers today, master?"

"Yes, I quite enjoyed myself," Edouard admitted sheepishly, trying not to look too embarrassed by the sudden attention. The room seemed to erupt with excited whispers and giggles as each catgirl eagerly awaited further instructions. Clearing his throat nervously, Edouard tried to regain control of the situation. "Umm… thank you all for your concern," he managed weakly. "But please, give me some privacy to dress myself." There were more suppressed giggles and a hasty retreat from the group, leaving him alone with only Faith remaining.

Faith's face flushed deeper red than her hair at his bold request, but she maintained her composure admirably. "Of course, Master," she said quietly, bowing gracefully before slipping silently away to prepare his breakfast. In truth, Faith had never been asked such a thing before; while the other catghosts had indulged in various forms of intimacy with their human guests throughout the centuries since being trapped here, no one had ever shown such open interest in their milky treasures. She wondered briefly how she would explain this peculiarity to Myrna when she returned to the kitchen.

Myrna raised an eyebrow curiously as Faith entered the kitchen visibly flustered, her normally composed demeanor replaced by a rosy flush spreading across her features. "Well, well, Faithful one," Myrna teased playfully, unable to resist poking fun at the pun unintentionally embedded within her own nickname. "What seems to have caught our dashing gentleman's fancy this time around?" As Faith shyly explained the unusual request made by their newest guest, Myrna couldn't help but feel both intrigued and apprehensive. On one hand, it had been ages since anyone had displayed genuine desire towards them; on the other hand, giving someone access to their most precious bodily fluids carried inherent risks—risks which these cunning humans had exploited countless times before. After considering the matter carefully, Myrna finally nodded reluctantly. "Very well," she agreed softly. "We shall honor His Lordship's wishes. But remember, girl, we don't know anything about this man yet. Be careful."

While Faith poured her warm, creamy breastmilk into a delicate crystal glass, Myrna busied herself with preparing Edouard's elaborate breakfast. A towering stack of pancakes drizzled with maple syrup sat steaming beside two perfectly cooked eggs sunny side up, resting upon a bed of crisp bacon bits. The smell wafting through the air was enough to make any hungry stomach rumble with anticipation. Once everything was ready, Myrma placed a small silver tray holding the glass of freshly harvested milk alongside Edouard's plate, making sure he wouldn't miss its presence. With a final curtsy, she retreated back into the shadows, leaving the young man alone with his food…and his thoughts.