Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Stella didn’t have to wait long. After one more suck I let out a pulsing stream that never seemed to end. I actually started to get a little concerned about how long it lasted, but my sweet girl swallowed every drop.
Even though she’d done all the hard work, my head lolled back on the pillow, and I was completely out of breath. Stella wiped her mouth and climbed up my body. She had the goofiest smile on her face.
“Jesus…that was…I feel like I might have to be taught to walk again.”
She giggled. “Does that mean your stress has been relieved?”
“It does. Unless I think about how the hell you learned to do that.”
“Actually, funny enough, a woman in one of my diaries had been struggling to try to do it, so she bought an instructional video. I bought it too because I was curious.”
I shut my eyes and chuckled. “Those diaries. They’re going to be the death of me, aren’t they?”
EPILOGUE
Stella
8-1/2 months later
Dear Diary,
Tonight Stella fell asleep before me, and I watched her. Every once in a while there was a little twitch at the corner of her lip, and her mouth would curve upward. It didn’t last long, a second or two, but I found it mesmerizing. I hope she was dreaming of me, because I want to make all of her dreams come true—just like she’s made mine.
-Hudson
I clutched my new diary to my chest. Seriously? How did I get so lucky? Hudson and I had moved in together a few months after the public launch of Signature Scent—not that I needed a roommate anymore. For the first time in my life, I could afford my own place in New York City. I could have plunked down a nice deposit on a brownstone of my own, as my business had done better than I could’ve imagined in my wildest dreams. Oprah had even put my little invention on her list of favorite gifts to give this year. We now had a special-edition Valentine’s Day Signature Scent box, and pretty soon a men’s version would be ready to launch. I’d worked long days writing the new algorithms, but now the experienced staff at Rothschild Investments had taken over, and I finally felt like I’d found the work-life balance I’d always wanted.
Hudson Rothschild had made all my dreams come true, and then some. He’d even surprised me with a trip to Greece to celebrate shipping our first product internationally. We’d stayed at the most amazing hotel in Mykonos. When we pulled up, it had looked vaguely familiar. But it took until I walked into our suite to realize why. The hotel he’d booked for us was the one I’d picked out almost a year ago while dream vacation planning in the lobby of his office and waiting to speak to him. He’d remembered from just the quick look he’d had at my screen.
As for my diary-reading hobby…well, I stopped buying them. I was afraid having journals laying around might remind Hudson of difficult memories. A few months back, he’d noticed and asked why I’d stopped. I’d told him I didn’t need to read about other people’s lives anymore, because my love story topped anything anyone else could pen. I hadn’t been lying, of course, but Hudson knew me well. He’d known I missed reading them and probably knew the reason I’d given them up. Which was why he’d surprised me with a diary last week—one he’d secretly kept for months. It was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. Well, most of the entries were sweet—some were just dirty.
Case in point… I flipped a dozen or so pages back and reread one of my favorites.
Dear Diary,
Today was a particularly hard day—pun unintentional, but damn if it isn’t the truth. My girl has been out on the West Coast for almost a week now. This morning when I woke up, I’d been lying on her pillow. Inhaling her scent made my usual morning wood impossible to deflate on its own. Rather than fight it, I shut my eyes and pulled her pillow from beneath my head to cover my face. Taking deep breaths, I stroked my cock, imagining my tight fist was her beautiful pussy. There was no substitute for the real thing, but I imagined she was sitting on top of me, grinding down hard to take every last inch inside her. She’d throw her head back as she came close, her beautiful tits bouncing up and down and aching to have my mouth on them. I’d wait until after she came and then thrust so deep that some of my cum would still be inside her the next time she had to leave.
-Hudson
Another of my favorites was a few more pages back. It was a story he’d never told me, but it warmed my heart.