Allintitle: Bible Verses For Tattoos For Guys Novels & Stories

My God, help me, I am dying and there will be no one who can come to save me! Her back was as well defined as her abdomen but the tattoo, God the tattoo made her stand out in such a striking way that I was sure drool would come out of my mouth at that moment, the tattoo was alluding to marine things I couldn't get the slightest bit of that doubt, but could not define what things were.

His tattoos swirled onto his chest, shaped to his pecs, and there was a couple of things by his waistband I couldn’t make out. Sweat dripped down his body, and his nostrils flared with every fly he completed. His eyes were down, and I couldn’t help the way mine ogled him unashamedly. I wished I could make them look away, but I couldn’t. Because, holy muscles. That was it. Just muscle. And tattoos. The absolute epitome of the bad boy. “Fuuuuuuuuck!” Titus groaned, lifting the weight up. “Two more!” Conor encouraged him. “Do it, you pussy!”

Pure, unholy sin. My hands moved on their own, sliding up his chest, tracing the tight lines of muscle beneath his warm olive skin. My fingers brushed the tattoo inked into his ribs, the Italian cross, the Latin carved beneath it. Mors tua, vita mea. Your death, my life. His grip tightened on my waist. He pushed me back, and my spine met the cold marble wall with a gasp. The contrast between his heat and the chill behind me sent a shiver all the way down to my toes. Zach’s lips left mine and dropped to my neck, kissing, biting, branding me with sins no holy water could ever cleanse.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

His eyes went to the dead body on the ground. Zoey growled, but lifted her fork and knife and cut into her meat. The tenderness and enticing aroma made her tummy happy. Zoey was about to deposit the food in her mouth when Titus rose to the floor. "Barnabas," his voice was raucous as he spoke. He worked the tip of his tail to smack the scrap of flesh from Zoey's hand. The steam hovered in the air, showcasing that it was prepared not long ago. That was when Zoey saw it. Barnabas's tattoo. An eagle being crushed by a serpent was burnt in the middle of the flesh. "Everyone, stop eating. This isn't fish or chicken." Everyone froze.

The only word that came to mind was drool worthy. My eyes were drawn to the tattoos that littered his body. The ones that lined his chest and ribs caught my attention and I badly wanted to know what they were. My fingers twitched at my sides wanting to go over there and run them across the tattoos. He threw his shirt off to the side and turned fully towards me. I couldn't stop myself from asking. "What are your tattoos of?" "Oh these." He glanced down at the ones on his chest. "This one," He pointed to the symbol on his left peck. "is the Marine's symbol. And this says 'Move mountains or die trying'." He touched the quote that was on his ribs.

But it wasn't the new wound that caught her attention. “Is that…me?” She inquired about the tattoo beneath the right side of my ribs that showed the silhouette of a girl reading a book. It was a simple collection of lines without detail but we both knew without the specific attributes that it was her. Why the ribs? Because if the Bible speaks true then one was sacrificed to make her possible. “Why were you so cold to me?” She asked while staring at the other tattoos around that one, unable to connect at this moment as they were to do with her.

He motions towards my tears then to the tiny diamond ring lying on the napkin. "I'm okay," I slowly assure the stranger. My words do not sound believable. I turn away, wiping more tears from my cheeks. Thoughts of John enter my mind. His sandy blonde hair pulled into a man-bun on top and freshly shaven on the sides and back. Him shirtless as he loved others to witness the rewards of his hard work at the gym. Him proudly crossing his arms across his chest, drawing attention to the dragon with skull tattoo and full sleeves as he strides toward me. His washboard abs flexing, drawing attention to his low-riding jeans. With each step, his abdominal tattoo, ‘Take No Prisoners,’ flashing like a neo

"Uh-huh, and he was clearly not staring at you like you're a goddess. Sometimes, I think you just have a pretty head on your shoulders but yet you're so dense when it comes to men. That man was flirting with you and you made a total fool of yourself. You should have flirted back, but you couldn't utter a word. I don't blame you though, he's really hot." "What are you talking about? Besides, did you see his tattoo? He's branded by the devil, there's no way someone like him and someone like me can end up together. We're worlds apart." "Oh please, he did that to himself, not the devil and his tattoo was nice. You're so obsessed with church. If you ask me, I think that men with tattoos are the n

I could be jerking off or something. “Yeah.” I say as I grab a black Versace t-shirt. It’s my favourite sooner or later I’ll get bored of it and wear another one. I’ve taken the sleeves off it to show my muscles that are not too big but definitely there. The girls love it, that and my tattoos. I’m considering getting another one done. My old man is going to spew, he wasn’t happy about the first nor the second one. By the time the third one happened, he finally resigned himself to the fact that his son was going to be King of the tattoos. They look cool on me and it’s an i***a-fuck-win with the girls.