He rubbed his shoulder, aware of a sweet, phantom ache.

Instantly, in a warm rush and a sweet ache.

The two of them quickly develop baby talk words between themselves and when they aren't together they begin to experience a sweet ache.

He liked the deep, sweet ache it left in the muscles afterward.

Where there was nothing but her and this churning, sweet ache of need.

There was an instant of discomfort, and then a sweet ache more beautiful than anything they'd done before.

Yet there was a pain, a sweet ache that spread and shifted through the whole of him.

His writing hand protested with a sweet ache.

She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache.

And the pleasure yet remained, the sweet ache returning, the throbbing need just out of reach.