Chapter 221

Ella

Logan and I sat on top of his car, looking out over the cityscape below. I leaned my head on his shoulder as the soft sound of music playing on the radio emanated through the open windows of the car, and let out a contented sigh.

“So,” Logan said, twirling his finger around a stray fiber from the rip in the knee of my jeans, “you and me, taking down the mafia together, huh?”

I let out a slight laugh. “Now that you put it that way, it feels like too high of a goal,” I said. “Maybe we should humble ourselves a bit.”

Logan chuckled. “It’s okay to have high goals. Even if you never reach them, at least you put in your best effort.”

“But how do we even begin?” I asked, looking up at him. “I mean, of course there’s Marina and Harry, but after that…”

“After that,” Logan said thoughtfully, his gaze lifting to the sky, “I’ve got a few other names in mind. Some businesses that are running some pretty dangerous side dealings out the back, some people who need to be taken down.”

“That list will probably never get shorter, either, will it?” I asked.

“Nope.” Logan chuckled again, a sound that had become like music to my ears, and hopped down off of the hood of his car. “We’re gonna be busy, Miss Morgan.” As he spoke, he held his hand out for me to take. I took it, reveling in the sensation of his cool palm against mine, and slid down beside him.

Logan and I were right; it was a lofty goal, one that was maybe too lofty. But it was important to us, and that was all that mattered. And besides, we could take it one step at a time—starting with Marina and Harry. What happened after that, well… we would cross that bridge when we got to it.

And right now, I had other things on my mind.

Ever since I had uttered those three little words to Ema, she had been pulling at me, yearning to finally mark Logan. It was the last step left to solidify our matehood, and it was what she had wanted since the beginning. I hated to admit it, but I wanted it, too.

As Logan and I slid back into the car, with Logan taking the driver’s seat this time, I felt my heart race. It felt oddly different to be beside him in this capacity, after we had just confessed to each other. And as he put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, I felt a stirring inside of me that couldn’t be ignored.

Logan, who was driving with one hand while the other rested on my thigh, glanced over at me with a bemused expression on his face.

“You’re squirming,” he said.

I felt my face flush a deep shade of red almost instantly. “Am I?”

“If I make you nervous, Miss Morgan, I can give you some space,” he teased, pulling his hand away.

But before he could, my hand shot out. I felt driven by my wolf in that moment, driven by a primal instinct—an instinct to take and be taken.

“Pull over,” I ordered.

Logan shot me a wary look. “Pull over?”

“You heard me,” I said, leaning closer to him.

Logan was no idiot. With little hesitation, he pulled over onto the side of the road. There was a small outcrop of trees and rocks there, where we would be shielded from any prying eyes. It was hardly seconds after he had put the car in park and turned to look at me before I was unbuckling my seatbelt and practically leaping over into the driver’s seat, sitting firmly on his lap. He was already hard; I could tell, even through his jeans.

“Holy shit, Ella,” he said as he brushed some stray hair out of my face. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I can’t wait any longer,” I muttered, leaning down to brush my lips against his. “I want to mark you.”

Logan pulled back ever so slightly and cupped my face in his hands, his clear blue eyes searching mine. “You do? Already?” he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “You’re sure?”

I bit my lip and nodded slowly. Truthfully, I had been wanting this from the beginning. All of the push and pull between us, it all felt so trivial now. Now, I was driven entirely by the primal urge to finally make him mine, the way it was supposed to be.

For a moment, Logan just looked at me, his eyes still searching my face for any hint of regret before he finally nodded, too. And then our lips were locked in a passionate kiss, deep and carnal. It was more than just a kiss, but rather a release of our wolves in that moment.

I felt Logan press the button to recline his seat, and we went down together, our lips never leaving the other’s. Logan’s hands wandered down my back, slipping up into my shirt and across my skin. His fingers were chilly, sending a soft shudder down my spine.

And then he moved lower, running his fingers across the fabric of my jeans between my legs. That made me shudder, too, and I pulled away to look into his eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered as I frantically began to work at my belt. “Wanting to mark me on the side of the road. What if we get caught?”

I smirked as I loosened my belt and began to unbutton my jeans next. “I thought you were supposed to be the mobster here,” I teased, my voice low and sultry. “Since when do you care about getting caught?”

Logan’s face twitched into that signature grin of his. “Touche,” he purred, working now at his own jeans.

When he was finished, I felt my wolf surge inside of me, and I slapped his hand out of the way so I could stroke his already-throbbing cock. He chuckled at my insistence, but said nothing, instead letting out a strained groan as I gripped him and began to stroke up and down. My other hand found its way into my panties, moving in tandem until my fingers were warm and wet when I pulled away.

“God, you’re hot when you’re like this,” he said between waves of groans. “Is this what I get to look forward to now that we’re official?”

“Maybe, if you play your cards right,” I replied.

With that, I slipped my jeans down the rest of the way, struggling a bit against the cramped setting. Logan laughed and helped me, his fingers finding the wet lips of my pussy once my jeans were off. He rubbed his calluses fingers in slow circles, causing me to throb and arch my back.

Then, gently at first, he slowly slipped himself into me, his member filling and stretching me in the most magnetic way I had ever felt. I threw my head back in ecstasy almost immediately, letting out a loud moan that filled the space of the cramped car.

I rode him there, my hands pressed into the firm muscles of his chest as his fingers dug into my hips. Our moans filled the car, our hot breaths steaming up the windows. The sound of the radio crackling felt like a distant drone, both of us too focused on each other’s lips and flesh to pay any attention to the world around us.

And for the very first time, I felt us connect—not only on a physical level, but rather something deeper, spiritual, something utterly and undeniably necessary.