Badass Irish Tattoos Novels & Stories

He took a step into the room and stopped as he heard her breath hitch in her chest, and she shrank back slightly in fear. “What is your name?” His raspy voice carried across the room. He pulled off his shirt, revealing the beautiful, intricate tattoos that designed his skin. He noticed her eyes shine with interest. He caressed the side of her face with the back of his hand. She stiffened on the bed as hand traced down her shoulders. When his hand cupped her breast and massaged her hard nipples, it was like she came to life. She swung with all her might, burying the pointy end of a comb into his abdomen. He cursed under his breath as she slipped away from his grasp and made a run for the door. He bound across the bed in one leap and pressed her face and chest against the wall. Growling under his breath, he gripped the neck of her cloth and tore it away. “You. Have. Not. Answered. My. Question -” His sentence was cut short by a knock on the door, and his brother walked in. ************ Claire Fischer had a perfect life. A perfect family. A loving fiance she was supposed to marry and rule over the pack. But it all changed as soon as her father died. She caught her fiance cheating and a family secret looms overhead. After being betrayed twice in a row, she decides that she can't take it anymore and she leaves the pack, placing her life in the hands of fate. Would fate treat her better than her pack? Or did she just get into an even worse situation because fate is not kind to anyone, especially a wolfless mutt with alpha blood, and a cursed Lycan king on the hunt.

Content Warning This collection is straight-up explicit erotica for adults 18+ only. Expect raw, graphic sex scenes with rough play, power dynamics, taboo elements (including step-family), group action, dominance/submission, risky/public settings, and plenty of filthy language. No gentle foreplay, no fade-to-black — just intense, unfiltered fucking. If hardcore stuff isn’t your thing, skip this one. In this collection, expect Highway Patrol Threesome — Two badass female cops pull over a smug driver late at night. The stop turns wild: he’s cuffed to the hood while they take turns riding him under flashing blue and red lights, trading filthy orders and sharing every drop. Step-Sister’s Late-Night Visit Built-up tension snaps when his teasing step-sister sneaks into his bed after midnight. She climbs on top; he flips her, pins her wrists, and fucks her rough against the headboard, trading dirty secrets they’ll both pretend to forget. Gym Locker Room Surrender The trainer catches a regular stretching alone after close. Door locked, he pins her to the lockers, hooks one leg over his shoulder, and pounds her standing until her screams bounce off the tiles and her legs give out. Secluded Beach Takeover— A bronzed stranger spots a woman sunbathing topless on a hidden shore. No chit-chat — he drops between her thighs, yanks the bikini aside, and fucks her right there on the towel with waves crashing nearby. Neighbor’s Midnight Intrusion The rough guy next door scales her balcony after dark and finds her waiting in lingerie. He tosses her on the bed, spreads her wide, and gives her slow, punishing strokes that rattle the headboard against the wall. And many more that will make you wet. Read if you are ready to cum harder than you ever have.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

" You wish it was you screaming my name, don't you? " He asked while locking me in place with his gaze. “ I don’t know what you're talking about.” I defended. I clutched the wall behind me as he moved closer with his hand on the door above my head. Our bodies were inches apart and it was getting harder to concentrate because of his bare chest that was muscular and covered with ink. " Tell me principessa, do you think of me when you trail your fingers down your stomach and between your thighs? Do you think of me as you work yourself trying to reach the brick of euphoria? Do you imagine it's my fingers as you work faster to ease the ache between your thighs? Do you scream my name as your walls clench around your digits and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you ? " " you! " I screamed, ignoring the loud thumping of my heart against my chest. " You see, I know girls like you. You've been sheltered all your life and you crave some rebellion. Tattoos, muscular, bad boy, and an Italian accent are your undoing, right? That's all it takes to have you drooling and fawning. I'm I right, principessa? " “ You know nothing about me! " I screamed and he chuckled. “ Oh, but I do. I can smell your arousal begging me to pin you to this wall and show just how much I can make your weep for me. " He whispered in my ear. She's fire and he's ice. Sicily holds many secrets but is Brianna ready for the ones Nikolai has to offer? A life of crime, gunfire, and passion is not what she signed up for. Can she handle the enigma that is Nikolai?

Before the SATs, everyone had filled in their dream colleges they'd like to apply to. Now that the results were out, my boyfriend, Sheldon Miller, and many of my classmates had successfully gotten into Astraeus University, which happens to be their dream university. In order to celebrate the success, Sheldon's childhood friend, Winnie Frost, decided to invite Sheldon and the classmates over to the tattoo parlor her family ran for celebratory tattoos. I grabbed Sheldon's hand and reminded him that students in aviation majors weren't allowed to have tattoos of their own, only to get slapped by him instead. The classmates around me even started mocking me relentlessly. "Just how shameless are you, Cassandra? Sheldon and Winnie are the actual childhood friends here! You don't want him to get a tattoo at her family's parlor out of jealousy, right?" I was so pissed that I could feel a headache coming. For the sake of Sheldon's future, I forcibly dragged him away. But what I didn't expect was that Winnie would secretly carry two barrels of gas to my residence. Just like that, she set my residence ablaze. That fire ended up killing my parents and me. Sheldon and our classmates even forged Winnie's alibi just so they could wash her off the police's suspicion. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Sheldon is about to walk into Winnie's tattoo parlor. Sheldon shakes my hand off ruthlessly and begins berating me angrily. "Aren't you just being jealous because Winnie and I are close to each other? I'll have you know that not only do I want to get a tattoo with Winnie, but I also want to have her name tattooed on my body!" This time, I just flash a wide smile at him. "Go on, then. You'd better have her name tattooed on an obvious spot."

Bikers and good girls don't mix. Cage was a bad boy biker. Tattoos and muscles he's every girl's dream, including Addie's. Addie was a good girl. Raised to be quiet, don't talk back, never hang with the wrong people. Date only those her parents approved. She was completely bored and just existing. That wasn't the case when she'd see him. The boy in the biker club. She'd see him around town and fantasize about how her life would be different if she was with someone like him. However he didn't even acknowledge her existence, or so she thought. Cage noticed the gorgeous innocent good girl. Her kind could never survive in his world. He was living proof of that. It took a bet from his brothers in the club to get him to meet her. When he did, he knew he was in trouble of falling hard for the good girl. Could she exist in both the world she's known her whole life and his life? Or would she have to choose? Neither knew what this encounter would bring about. Secrets buried for years, second chance love, and all the club drama you can handle. Some betrayals were meant to protect her. How will she handle learning who her real father is? Will she be able to forgive them? Will she find the true her? And if she does, will she give them another chance or walk away? Her whole world falls apart, only to get put back together totally different than she ever imagined. Her real father never got over her mother. Will they get back together or will his current woman destroy any chance they have? Look for upsets, betrayal, rejections, and more. Come hell or high water Addie will get her Happily Ever After!

"You are not going anywhere Alina, especially not to that green-eyed bastard." He said, slamming her against the wall & caging her in his arms. "Who do you think you are to tell me that? You are not my boss, Shane." She glared at him. He smirks, "I think you forgot who the boss is. You want me to remind you again?" He licked his lips as his gaze darted towards her lips. Her lips quivered under his hot gaze, as his lips almost touching hers. She took deep breaths, 'Control yourself Alina. Don't get him under your skin.' "Don't play with fire, Shane. You don't know who you are dealing with." She smirked. "Try me." He whispered, lightly grazing her earlobe with his teeth. ____ Alina, a strong headed & badass woman whose life is perfect as a Event planner. She just wants to increase her branches with her best friend & live a simple life. The only thing that bothers her is, her insecurities with men. Everything is normal until she crosses paths with the most powerful gang leader in New York. Shane Vincent King. He’s hot, mysterious, sexy yet dangerous. If you ever dare to come in his way then you’ll no longer be in this world... Every woman wants to be with him but he has his eyes only for one woman. What if Alina is that woman who he wants for all his life? Can she be able to put her insecurities aside for him? What if she got dragged into a dangerous life after entering his life? Or is her life already dangerous because of her unknown past? Will Shane help her to know her past, leading her into a new life & fall in love with each other or fate has some other plans for them?

"A woman like you? No fucking way you're a virgin." "Who said virgins can't be filthy, Rocco?" DIANA SANTORO: Five years locked inside a convent. Not because I was holy. Because the family I was born into is dangerous. My name is Diana Santoro. Mafia blood. And in this world, daughters like me get hidden away until the war is over. Now my brother’s the Don. And he wants me back. The man he sent to collect me? Rocco Moretti. The most feared monster in Italy. The devil of Cosa Nostra. They say he pulls confessions out of men with his bare hands—then sleeps like a baby afterward. Three days on the road. Just us. He’s expecting some scared little nun-in-training, ready to be escorted quietly back to my gilded cage. He has no idea that the only innocent thing about me is this face. **** ROCCO MORETTI: Forty-seven men. That's how many I've killed. Tortured more than double that. Never lost a minute of sleep over any of them. So why does this girl—with her innocent eyes and that smart mouth—make me feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind around every bend of this road? Last night, at some roadside motel, she walked into my room. Ran her fingers over my tattoos, looked up at me with this smirk, and told me she wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell does she want? To destroy me? To see how far she can push before I snap? She's a virgin. Untouched. Off-limits. The one thing a man like me can never have. But when she looks at me like that—wearing that short dress, lips parted just enough—I forget who I am. I forget I'm the monster. And I start wanting, with everything in me, to be the one who ruins her. Even if it costs me my life. Even if it costs me everything.