“Yes.” My answer was quick, and I made sure that no sliver of doubt or uncertainty could be heard. “When you cast your spells and do your Magick, I’ll stand in and do all the dark shit for you - if there needs to be blood spilled because that is what your goddess demands of you, I will be the one to do that.”
She swallowed audibly, and I wanted to graze the column of her throat with my teeth.
“Our goddess. She’s both of ours now.” I didn’t fail to notice the wobble in her voice, and so I smoothed my hand down her spine, soothing her through touch.
“Ours.” I spoke the word as if it were the most natural thing in the world before finally pulling my dick out of her as I looked upon my cum that seemed to hover at her entrance, making the prettiest picture I had ever seen.
Corinne
My palms were clammy and I hated that my nerves still dictated how my body reacted. It was only Dimitri and I, my Witches and some members of the Bratva. That was all I would permit for this because churches made me nervous. I held the ridiculous notion that by entering the church I was somehow cheating on Isis, which I knew was a ludicrous thought, but in the midst of all the wedding activity of late, I couldn’t be deemed entirely sound of mind.
Dimitri’s calloused hand dipped down towards my clammy one, engulfing mine in a way that left no doubt about who or what we were. The sound of the water streaming through the fountain behind us offered me solace where little else did.
Saint Louis Cathedral was possibly the most notable church within New Orleans. It also meant that it was a giant tourist attraction, and I couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably as the tourists gathered behind us snapped photographs in an unrelenting manner.
Did they know who we were? Did they know why we were here?
My navy shift dress clung to my thighs as sweat slicked my neck, reminding me that we were in the height of a New Orleans summer. As if it were possible to forget such a thing.
According to Russian tradition, it wasn’t enough that Dimitri had slid a ring on my finger in the throes of passion, as he informed me that I was his. We now needed to gain the Priest’s blessing, cementing the betrothal for what it was.
I glanced up at Dimitri and it was annoying how unaffected he always was. Did he know this Priest? Like him? I couldn’t be the only one who thought this entire thing was absurd - I was a Witch for god sake!
The church offered one measly lip of a step where Dimitri and I both stood, crammed between the large stone doorway. Those accompanying us stood a few feet behind, shielding us from prying us and flashing cameras.
Finally, the two large wooden doors swung open to reveal a catholic priest wearing a set of sunglasses.
“Dimitri.” His voice was gravelly and soft as he widened his arms in greeting, welcoming Dimitri like a long lost friend. They fucking knew each other. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Priest was on Dimitri’s payroll, and that thought alone settled me - because if he was on Dimitri’s payroll, he couldn’t turn me away - he wouldn’t scream ‘heathen’ for all to hear. Dimitri stepped forward, engulfing the Priest in a hug, as if they were indeed long lost friends.
“What’s with the shades, Father Anton?” To anyone else, Dimitri’s tone would have sounded bland and unamused, but I picked up the hint of amusement there - as if he found the notion of the Priest wearing shades to our betrothal ceremony comical.
“Got lasek surgery on my eyes, so I need to keep the shades on for a few more days.”
Dimitri nodded. “You send any extra costs our way.”
I watched as Dimitri’s hand tightened on the Priest as Father Anton seemed to nod in understanding.
“You have the candles?” The Priest seemed to remember himself as he looked upon myself and the group behind us.
“Here.” Brenna stepped forward with ease as she presented two white pillar candles, engraved with a series of sigils - each denoting happiness, health, and love. Father Anton’s lips tightened at the edges as he took in the carvings, but he did not say anything. Perhaps money did indeed trump morals. Nothing surprised me anymore. Wordlessly, Dimitri held his candle, while I did the same as the good Priest lit the wick. The flames danced and grew in strength, leaving Father Anton perplexed, and I could almost hear the metal cog turn as he wondered how can a Witch possibly be blessed upon the steps of my cathedral? It made me want to stick my tongue out at him and conduct a rain dance, but instead, I held steady and true, and listened as he spoke the words needed to bless our union in the eyes of the church.
And even standing on the steps of Saint Louis, I felt absolutely nothing other than a great appreciation for the magnificent architecture. The holy water splashed my brow and all I felt was a hollow emptiness, a far cry from everything else I had experienced.
The Priest's brow furled as he watched me receive the blessing, as if he expected the Holy Water to seize me on the spot, turning me into the Demon he believed I was. Did he think that I had bewitched Dimitri into marrying me? If only he knew how Dimitri had proposed - of how good Dimitri could make me feel.
Once the words were spoken, and the holy water anointed, we lingered before the Priest, as if he was no longer certain what to do with us - what to do with me. I was certain his plan had backfired because whatever wrath he thought I would face as a Witch had not come to pass.
“Are you done yet?” Maxine’s sultry drawl sounded behind us, and I wondered how much a Witch like Maxine would scandalize a priest like Anton. “There’s a cool burger joint down the road that I want to stop at.” Maxine continued, as if she were entirely oblivious to the disdain the man before me harbored for our kind.
Father Anton’s lips tightened in displeasure, and in that moment, I wanted to kiss Maxine - to dance naked in the streets with my guild just to watch the Priest fall into cardiac arrest out of pure shock. Instead, I smiled politely as I tugged Dimitri along with me, willing our group to be engulfed by the crowd of tourists as we walked the streets of New Orleans, our candles clutched before us.