He brushes them against her collar bone just above her shirt. He murmurs into the nape of her neck. He tucks more in close behind her ear.
He flatters her that she is perfect. Tells her he loves her eyes, how they sparkle like emerald fire. Whispers how soft her hair is, how he loves the white against the brown. Strokes her curves and finds them without compare. Delights in her personality, even when she is angry or willfully resisting him.
“Charmer,” she mutters.
“Only for you, chèrie.”