He lay on his stomach across the other steps so his mouth could press against her.

Her mouth pressed to a thin line, she started for his quarters again.

His mouth pressed in the palm of her hand.

He rolled his eyes upward, mouth still pressed low on my stomach.

Max didn't say anything, though his mouth pressed into a tight line.

His open mouth pressed hot and wet on the long muscle of the throat.

Then his mouth pressed against mine, and there was nothing gentle about it.

He laid it open, pressed his mouth against the fabric of her dress.

Just standing there crying, his mouth pressed tight, looking at me.

I could see him from the corner of my eyes crying, his mouth pressed tight again.