My skin ached to have her touch me, hold me.

My skin ached with it.

His skin had ached with need, 'til he felt it must grow transparent, and the raw soreness of his heart be seen in his chest.

My feet were freezing and so were my hands, and the skin of my face positively ached.

Her skin ached where his fingers had been.

Her skin actually ached for his touch, yet every stroke of his hard fingers made the ache intensify.

Now that I was aware of the burn, my skin ached and itched.

The skin on his legs ached and itched, stretching to hold the new live flesh.

My skin ached to be touched.