Badass Forearm Tattoo Novels & Stories

I was lost in the sight tracing his muscles with my eyes Watching the way his serpent tattoo curled around his right arm up to his neck. The rest of his body was bare but that single full sleeve tattoo gave him a dangerous edge Even from the back he was fucking hot. Red marks that look like claw marks mapped his back. I was flushed. There was no way that was my handwork. My face burned remembering I was under that body last night. It was really a shame that I didn't get to touch his biceps properly because I was lost in the heat

He exclaims which makes me then look down at my forearm to read my own tattoo which spelt 'family'. The tattoo was something that all of our members had to prove that they were in our gang and that we were a family. Jake had it on his bicep, Jason had it on his shoulder blade, Zack had it on his rib and Nick had it on his collar bone. Dominic got it recently on the back of her ear. Somewhere hard to find but still in her style. It suited her, and it wouldn't risk her identity being found out.

I stopped. The tattoos I'd been catching fragments of for weeks were finally visible in their entirety, and they were — extensive. Dark ink covering both arms nearly to the wrists, climbing his chest and shoulders, wrapping around his back in patterns I couldn't fully read from here. A skull on his forearm, a snake threading through the eye socket, dark red and black. Words in Russian across his ribs — I could see them but not read them at this distance. On his chest, above his heart, a single phrase in Cyrillic I could just make out:

I had always imagined how romantic it was going to be, but right now, it hurts more than it pleases me. He had tattoos on his chest, arms, and hand. The tattoo on his chest had words I couldn't read because it was way too tiny; A lion on his arm with words I still couldn't read because they weren't English; and a rose on his arm with his mother's name tattooed in it.

Like the weird kind of staring that makes you feel like you have something on your face or something in your teeth. “What are you all staring at?” I query. Rian snaps out of whatever fucking trance he’s in and is by my side looking at me weird too. "Baby, when did you get a tattoo on your arm?" Huh? I look down to see what looks like a tattoo on my right forearm of what looks like a sword covered in vines. It's beautiful and intricately done. "Huh, well it looks like this is the blessing from the Goddesses," I murmur.

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

The ones on his arms seemed to be tribal designs of some sort. Stilling his left hand with her own, she turned it over to look at the underside of his forearm. The ink continued and shifted as he moved like a living extension of his skin. It was beautiful up close. She'd only seen glimpses before. Caught up in the pattern, she traced the black lines with her fingertips from his inner elbow to his wrist and back again.

“I don’t know if it applies, but I am gonna try.” Roslyn was going to retort that he could try all he wanted…But then she gasped when she saw his chest. He was broad and well muscled. His right arm was covered with tattoos from shoulder to wrist while his left arm was covered with even more tattoos by his shoulder. The name Monster was written in black ink along his forearm. Roslyn had to wonder how he got the name Monster in the first place, well besides his size. She bit her lip to hide her snicker. Or his disposition… it could be that too.

If I wouldn’t have listened to him, he would have tightened his arm more and I would have ended up with shattered bones. His warmth was heartwarming and it gave me the courage to run my finger along his muscled tattooed arm and I made small circles along the lines of his tattoo. He had this artistic tattoo of a warrior on his forearm, wearing armor and he was looking up at the constellation and that moon that was inked in Romeo’s biceps skin. And I wondered what that tattoo was about.

Now, he had beard; not those bushy, goatee beard or those that look like the great forest of Madagascar, the kind of thin neatly shaved one that added sexiness to his already breathtaking face. With his arms resting on the top of the chair, I could see the veins of his seriously muscular arms and neck bulging in his tank top. Damn! His chest pumped out and the top greedily clung to his abs. Hot damn! The only thing I didn't like was the badass tattoos on his left hand and neck. The tattoo formed a wristwatch for him, and then another acted as covering on his arm. His tattoos weren't black, colorful ones that made him look like a beautiful art work. He was talking, his slightly plump, glossy