Bible Verse Tattoos Chest Novels & Stories

Finding his gaze unnerving, she instantly flickered her gaze down. Her cheeks flushed when she realized he wasn’t wearing any shirt. His rugged body resembled a canvas. A number of tattoos spread across his tanned chest. There was a tattoo of a serpent designed on his upper left chest and the other side had roman numbers written on it. Her eyes traveled down his bulging biceps and paused at a tattoo that caused her a tinge of discomfort. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed the evil symbol, a sigil of Baphomet branded on his bicep. Being a devotee of god, the discovery scandalised her. Why would anyone get that? Not a moment later, she realized it wasn’t the only one, he also had an un

Gawd, I missed him. I inhale deeply and I realize, I haven’t actually seen his chest before. He’s always had a shirt on. His tanned skin is ripped with toned and tight muscles at his pecs and abs. He has a tattoo on his chest that spans across both sides, up over his bulky shoulders and down onto his biceps. They look like thorny vines with roses, but in the dark of my room and under the covers, I can’t be sure. Whatever it is of, its sexy! Sinfully sexy!! I lean forward just a bit; wanting to get a taste of that skin when my nipples rub against him, and I gasp a bit. I look down at myself and I remember I am naked. I never got dressed after my bath.

He put his palms together and chanted the words he knew would bring the goddess, shouting her name at this time of the night would not do him any good he didn’t want any unnecessary attention neither did he want the goddess blasting him with her powers against the wall again. As he chanted he felt a warmth in his chest, no cold or hot air blew, just a warmth that turned hotter in his chest and the more he chanted the more his heat increased until his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. He stopped chanting and gasped, holding his chest in his hands as his breath came out heavy and thick. He tried to move his lips to continue with the chant but they would not move, the ski

He gives me apologetic eyes and moves back to the wardrobe to pick out his clothes in it and I follow, he reaches in to pick out his shirt and I see the large but beautiful tattoo of the word Rogue wrapped up in black wings on his back and my eyes trail down to the written words he had tattooed on the right side of his ribcage, the one he told me what it meant over a year ago. I try to read out every word written there even if it's barely showing from his sitting position and the fact that he already has a black T-shirt over his head, "Si pasas por el infierno, sigue adelante." my hand slowly raises his clothe to traces it and I can feel how his body tenses up almost immediately, "you told m

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.

Oh, did I mention he was only wearing his boxers? His upper torso was on full display as he turned over strips of bacon and eggs. He had a howling wolf head tattooed on his chest, right over his heart with the text “Wolf Riders” written under it. His entire right arm was covered in an intricate pattern of tribal black tattoos as well as part of his chest and shoulder. There was a weeping angel stretched between his shoulder blades and across his neck was his name. All of which moved with him like a living art piece, making me even more aware of every rippling muscle and hard plate this god-like man had. His toned stomach and wide chest. I was a bit surprised when I saw he didn’t have a six-p

"Can you give me the honor of a dance?” He wore a tunic of light fabric and the same shade of gold as me, with some open buttons, revealing the muscular and tattooed chest. Right in the center of the chest, there was an eagle with its mouth and wings open, it was large and proved to be very sure of itself on its flight. Descending through the abdomen the symbols of crosses stained the golden skin.

Kate kissed his chest, her fingers trailing against the pattern on his shirt as she nodded in agreement. “My favorite childhood memory…” He trailed off. Kate could tell he knew the answer, he was just plucking up the courage to actually say it. His heart thrummed beneath her palm, as he took a deep breath, “My mom used to tuck me in bed and she would always recite the same bible verse. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.” There was a slight shake in his voice and Kate desperately wanted to comfort him, but she

I kept thinking back to today's little incident, something just felt off, but for the love of me, I can't figure it out. Minutes and minutes later and a low groan vibrated from my chest, annoyed at my tired body that won't just rest and sleep. My back was to Christian, pressed right up against his chest and his arm was under me. I smiled again when I stared at his tattoo and finally understood the word written, but still on the inside of his arm and around the word laid different patterns, intertwined together and covering the real skin underneath.

He was still asleep. I slipped back into the bed beside him. That’s when I realized—he was burning up. Sweat dampened his chest despite the cold. His bare chest glistened under the dim light. My fingers hovered over the black raven tattoo on his left breast, its wings spread wide, claws clutching a broken crown like it had conquered something… or lost everything. “What does it mean?” I asked myself in a hushed voice. “I’ve never really looked at you this way. But now, it’s all starting to make sense. The date on your forearm…”