His breath in her ear, against her cheek, on the back of her neck, was a sweet airy caress.

Her lips, warm and alive, imparting a final sweet caress, was the last sensation I knew.

I wanted to fling myself into her pale arms, to feel the touch of those soft lips, the sharp sweet caress of her teeth.

With every touch, every sweet, silky caress, she was destroying his soul.

Her name was a sweet caress as his mouth found her ear and he whispered words that made the blood thicken in her veins.

Disregarding my presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed her hand over his head with a sweet womanly caress.

There was no time for quiet passions, for deep gazes and sweet caresses.

His mouth brushed hers in a sweet, dry caress.

If only he had kissed or held her, if only there had been one sweet caress.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, a caress so sweet that it made Plum cry that much harder.