Badass Forearm Tattoo Novels & Stories

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying at all, my attention completely stolen by his bare chest. I couldn’t help but notice the armband tattoo on his left arm. The word “Moretti” was inked in a beautiful Old English font, with detailed lines making it look even cooler. His tattoos just added to that tough, masculine vibe he had going on. Then I saw the tattoo on his back. A raven, placed right in the middle of his back, near his shoulders and neck. It was so well done, I couldn’t stop staring at it, totally impressed.

But he was still anticipating seeing what would be his next move. Carson just placed his hand right over the blanket covering his hard rock dick. He had his one leg was stretched straight and other was bent inside... He was looking no less than a sexy model. Displaying his tattoos. Only Carson among the three had tattoos on his body. His arm had a black band; his right leg had an ANCHOR right above his ankle and not to forget the DEVIL TRYING TO CATCH HIS NIPPLE. Well it was a devil printed on his chest above his left nipple extending his hand as in to grab his nipple.

His mouth was sinful in that lazy, careless way—full lower lip, sharper upper, currently pressed into a line that said nothing and everything all at once. And his eyes. They were not fully human. Too bright. Too intense. A colour that might have been amber in daylight, but here, in the half-dark, seemed to hold embers. No glow, not like the Beast. But the memory of that molten fire echoed in them. Something in their depths moved when he blinked, like banked coals shifting under ash. Her heart stuttered. No. Her gaze snagged on the ink. A swirling tattoo painted his right arm from shoulder to wrist—black sigils twisting over his bicep, winding down his forearm. It didn’t stop there. The marks

She was upset that I didn't recognize her, and seemed deeply upset when I pushed her arms away and stared at her. Despite the simple black dress, the neckline was deep enough for the tattoo of his capital sin to be quite significant and easy to decipher. In the center of the small trunk was the image of a fat badger with his mouth wide open, where a small man fell into it. Around the animal, crosses, tombstones and flames spiralled over the woman's pale skin. The rest of the drawing was not noticeable enough for me to lose more than a few seconds staring, so I looked away when she also looked.

I tried so hard not to flush when I saw his naked torso; it was a sight to behold. Broad wide shoulders with lots of muscles, defined strong abs and on his left pectoral, there was a scary tattoo of a three-headed vicious dog, surrounded by flames. And a lot of scars were all over his abdomen. On his back, there was a full back length tattoo of some sort of grim reaper, angel! His grunts again brought me back from dreamland. I shook my head, clearing it; I gently touched the wounded area on his right, trying to understand what I was dealing with.

The shame that had felt so sharp simply dissolved, replaced by a deep, needy warmth. At that moment, Marcus walked into the room wearing only a pair of black pants that hung low on his hips. His powerful, muscular chest was now fully on display. It was broad, thick, and heavily defined from years of strength training. His shoulders were wide and imposing, tapering down to a strong, V-shaped torso with visible abs. The large black tattoo of a roaring lion on his left forearm seemed to come alive as his muscles flexed with every movement. A light dusting of dark hair covered his powerful pecs, trailing down in a thin line toward his waistband.

My gaze drifted unconsciously to his collarbone. There was a new tattoo there. Red, still swollen from being freshly inked, but unmistakable. It was my name. The characters were rendered in the most ancient, wild cursive form of script, like an old, binding sigil. My fingers trembled as I touched it. “When did you… get this?” Henry caught my hand and rubbed it gently against his palm. “Last night, after you fell asleep.” “Did it hurt?” “It was better that it hurt.” His eyes darkened, and a satisfied smile curved his lips.

Mark was slightly taller than I and was a hundred and ninety pounds of rock solid muscle, his shoulders were wide and his waist narrow, he was not muscle bound, but there was not a damn thing on him that was not exactly where it should be including a set of abs that would make a twenty year old jealous. Mark, like me in a sleeveless shirt caught a bit of attention. Both of his arms shoulder to elbow were covered in enormous tattoo's, on the right was Pan the Celtic devil; horns, hooves and red eyes glaring, on the left was an incredibly detailed image of the Pale rider of revelations fame. With his build, the tats and his five o clock shadow Mark was flaunting the "Bad Boy" look and carried

" Yes of course." " Okay, get ready cause is long..." He said why putting down his food. " Okay firstly, I have one on my chest a wing tattoo which signifies liberty for me. On my forearm, the word GO is written in capital letters cause I love traveling. On my right bicep a big moon representing darkness, on my thorax a rose surrounded with thorns representing the lovely but difficult relationship with my mom. Here,( showing me his left hand) three birds on the back of my left hand representing freedom of choice. On my left-right arm my name written in Chinese, this one, I have done it in Japan during one of my trips. On my left palm a roaring lion representing power. On my right middle fing

The only source of light present in the room was the side lamp that ignited their faces with its gloriously aesthetic fire hued light. Her body trembled a bit when he walked in wearing his usual tee-shirt which reached his neck hiding his flesh yet the muscles popping out didn't care to push in the shirt. Only his arms were on display which had dark tattoes guiding them. His left arm was completely covered with a dark scary scorpion tattoo while the other was only inked around his bicep.