Sunrise Sketches

Jude chuckled, the sound low and wicked. “Impatient, are we?”

“You have no idea,” I breathed, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. My breath caught at the sight of him—all golden skin and lean muscle, his chest moving with his own desire.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin. Jude shuddered, his fingers tightening on my hips as I explored the planes of his chest with my mouth, my tongue circling one flat nipple before moving to the other.

“Liora,” he groaned, his voice strained. “Keep that up and I won’t last long enough to get you to the bed.”

I laughed, the sound breathless and giddy. “Then you’d better hurry.”

Jude didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted me off the counter like I weighed nothing, his arms strong and sure around me as he carried me across the studio to the small alcove where my bed was tucked away. He set me down gently, his eyes dark and hungry as he reached for the button of my jeans.

I beat him to it, my fingers fumbling as I popped the button and slid the zipper down, shimmying out of the denim and my underwear in one motion. Jude’s gaze swept over me, hot and possessive, as he did the same, shoving his jeans and boxers down his hips before stepping out of them.

My mouth went dry at the sight of him fully naked—golden skin, defined muscles, and his cock, hard and thick, jutting proudly from a nest of dark blond curls. I reached for him, my hand wrapping around his length, savoring the way he pulsed against my palm, hot and alive.

Jude’s breath hissed out between his teeth, his hips jerking forward almost involuntarily. “Liora…”

I stroked him slowly, my thumb smoothing the bead of moisture from his tip. “I’ve dreamed about this,” I whispered, my voice low. “About you.”

Jude’s eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back as I worked him with my hand, my lips tracing the line of his jaw. “Show me,” he rasped. “Show me what you want.”

I guided him back onto the bed, pushing him down onto the mattress before straddling his thighs. His hands found my hips, his grip confident but not controlling, letting me set the pace. I leaned down, capturing his mouth in a fervent kiss as I reached between us, positioning him at my entrance.

We both groaned as I sank down onto him, taking him inch by inch until he was seated deep inside me. I stilled, my breath halting at the feel of him stretching me, filling me so perfectly it almost hurt.

“Okay?” Jude murmured, his hands stroking my thighs, my hips, anywhere he could reach.

“Better than okay,” I breathed, my voice shaky with desire. “You feel… incredible.”

Jude’s hips twitched, a tiny thrust that had us both gasping. “Move, Liora,” he begged, his voice rough. “I need to feel you move.”

I did, rolling my hips in a slow, sensual rhythm that had us both moaning. Jude met me movement for movement, his hands guiding my rhythm, his mouth hot and eager on my skin. We moved together like we’d been doing this for years, like we were made for this, for each other.

The tension built slowly, exquisitely, tightening and tightening until I felt like I would fly apart at the seams. Jude’s hands were everywhere—cupping my breasts, stroking my back, tangling in my hair—as he whispered filthy, reverent words against my skin.

“Liora,” he groaned, his voice cracking on my name. “I’m close… so fucking close…”

I sped up, chasing my own release, my body clenching around him as the pressure inside me reached its peak. Jude’s fingers found my clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure, and I shattered, my orgasm crashing over me in waves of blinding pleasure.

Jude followed me over the edge, his hips snapping up as he came with a guttural moan, his release spilling inside me in hot pulses. We stayed like that for a long moment, our brows touching, breathing ragged, as the aftershocks rippled through us.

“Wow,” Jude murmured finally, his voice rough and sated. “Just… wow.”

I laughed, the sound breathless and giddy, as I collapsed onto his chest. “Understatement of the century.”

Jude’s arms came around me, holding me close as he brushed a kiss to my temple. “Stay,” he whispered, his voice already heavy with sleep. “Stay with me.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. With Sunny curled up at the foot of the bed and Jude’s heartbeat steady under my ear, I let myself drift, safe and sated in the arms of the man I’d admired from afar for so long.

For the first time in months, I wasn’t just sketching the sunlight—I was basking in it.

I woke to coffee and sunlight, Jude’s arm draped over my waist. He was still asleep, his face relaxed in a way I’d never captured in my sketches—all soft edges and long lashes, his golden hair tousled against the pillow. Sunny was curled at the foot of the bed, her tail thumping gently as she watched us with bright, attentive eyes.

“Morning,” Jude mumbled, his voice rough with sleep as he nuzzled into my hair. “You smell like turpentine and sex.”

I laughed. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing,” he confirmed, kissing my shoulder. “My two favorite things.”

I turned in his arms, facing him fully. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but his smile was bright, intimate. “Coffee?”

Jude grinned. “I may have already brewed some.” He nodded toward the kitchenette. “Thought we might need it after last night.”

“Or this morning,” I teased, glancing at the clock.

“Semantics,” Jude said, waving a dismissive hand before reaching for me again. He pulled me close, his mouth meeting mine in a slow, sweet kiss that tasted like shared secrets and second chances.

We stayed like that for a long moment before the smell of coffee lured us out of bed. I pulled on one of Jude’s discarded shirts while he stepped into his boxers.

In the kitchenette, Jude poured coffee into two mismatched mugs. “Milk?” he asked, holding up the carton.

“Please,” I said, accepting the mug. The ceramic was warm against my palms.

Jude added a splash of milk to his own mug before turning to face me. “So,” he said, his eyes alight with mischief. “About that sketchbook…”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Do we have to talk about it?”

“Yes,” Jude laughed, tugging my hands away. He set his mug down and reached for the sketchbook. “I have a proposition for you.”

I eyed him warily. “A proposition?”

“Mhmm.” He flipped the sketchbook open to a blank page near the back. “I want you to keep filling these pages. With me. With us.” He tapped the paper. “No more secrets, Liora. No more hiding in the shadows.”

I swallowed. “What are you saying?”

Jude stepped closer, his free hand finding mine. “I’m saying let me in. Let me be part of your art. Part of your life.” He held out the sketchbook. “I’m saying… let’s make this story ours.”

I took the sketchbook with trembling hands. “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, Jude.”

His smile was blinding. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me—slow and deep and full of promise.

Later, I sat on the edge of the bed, the sketchbook open in my lap. Jude was in the shower, the sound of running water a soothing backdrop. I sketched quickly, capturing the curve of his shoulder as he’d slept, the way his hand had rested on my hip, the contented sigh of a golden retriever at our feet.

Jude emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips. He padded over to me, his eyes warm as he took in the new sketch. “Perfect,” he murmured. He reached for the sketchbook, closing it gently. “I have something for you too,” he said, retrieving a small, wrapped package.

I took it with raised eyebrows. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” Jude urged. I tore the paper, revealing a sleek, leather-bound sketchbook. On the cover, embossed in gold, were the words: “Liora & Jude & Sunny: A Love Story in Progress.”

“It’s for our next chapter,” Jude said. “Whenever you’re ready to start.”

I traced the embossed letters. “I’m ready.”

Jude’s smile widened. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss me. “Because I’m staying right here.”

We stayed like that for a long moment, the sketchbook between us. At our feet, Sunny sighed, her tail thumping softly against the floor.

Stay.