Bohemian Finger Tattoos Novels & Stories

I added breathily, the cool air hitting my soaked folds making me shiver with need. Blake chuckled softly, eyes burning with desire. He then slid two fingers of his left hand into his mouth, coating them generously with saliva. As he pulled them out, thick strings of saliva trailed from his fingers and dripped down his chin. “You use your left?” I quipped curiously as I settled more comfortably on the tattoo bed, getting myself ready for him. He nodded. “Have you never been finger-fucked by a lefty before?” He asked with a teasing smirk. “Don’t worry, baby. My left hand is about to ruin you in the best way.”

I said shaking my head sideways and looking around the class to see all the people still looking at me. "Then why that cute little pout on your face?" he asked booping my nose with his index finger and I noticed a small tattoo on his ring finger on the inside that is lying in between his ring and middle finger. I pulled his hand towards mine and tried seeing his tattoo. But he winced when I pulled his fingers. "Sorry, I was just curious to see your tattoo" I said giving him a sorry look. He just giggled and gave me his hand. There was a beautiful iris resting on his finger. The flower looks soo very beautiful and it looks elegant. "That looks soo very beautiful" I said gasping in awe.

As I work my way down her bruised back my fingers touch over puckered flesh that has been covered by an intricate tattoo of various flowers, none that I could identify other than a rose, with butterflies and hummingbirds. The tattoo was almost the complete width of her upper lower back. It sat too high up to be considered a tramp stamp. She was not the type to have a tramp stamp that’s for sure. This was definitely a work of art. I slowly ran my fingers across the scars. The tattoo did an amazing job of hiding them. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was rubbing my hands all over her body I probably wouldn’t have even noticed them. Now that I have, I’m curious.

“It goes away after a few weeks.” Her eyes lit up. “Can I get one too?” Rosa ruffled her hair. “Of course, princess.” We picked our designs—Rosa chose an intricate floral pattern for her wrist, while I opted for a delicate crescent moon on my ankle. Francesca, of course, insisted on butterflies on both hands. As the artist worked, Rosa smirked at me. “We should get real tattoos next time.” I scoffed. “I don’t think Alaric would be thrilled if I came home with a full sleeve.”

Instinct took over and with the guidance of Scarlett, the baby latched onto her mother’s breast. “Definitely my child.” Knuckles murmured as he gently brushed his hand over her soft red curls. Protect what’s mine The tattoos over his knuckles held a new meaning as he looked at them holding his daughter. Neither saw Siobhan as she snapped a picture of them. Nessie leaning against Knuckles’ bare chest with Abigail at her breast. Finger tattoos proclaiming PROTECT WHAT’S MINE cupped the tiny head. The other hand declaring DEFEND WHAT’S MINE were interlaced with smaller fingers with runes on them holding the small body.

“You're not training with Dane today. Neither with Napoli, nor will you practice Muay Thai with Collins. He tossed his black jacket to the side and for the first time I got a glimpse of his biceps and discovered that he has tattoos on one of his arms. They look like Egyptian hieroglyphs, letters and a compass. I always kept in mind the numbers that she has tattooed on her fingers, but my fascination with it made me ignore them all this time so as not to lose my temper. I find that detail very attractive, but now that I see it... I don't know how I'm going to control myself.

“Yeah? Maybe once my ass is healed you can turn the puncture wound into one of them cool, fake bullet holes you see on motorcycles and pickup tailgates.” “Please. I’m an artiste. I have something way better in mind. Something hip-fun-sexy-cool.” Suspicion clouded Colt’s face. “I already told you. You ain’t tattooing the area around my nipples. Ever.” “But this new pattern is so awesome. Turquoise and orange outlined in black and red, that looks like flames—” “No way, no how.” “Just hear me out.” “Dammit, Indy, I said no. Why are you so dang fired up about doin’ this?”

" Devon was still in disbelief, his eyes as wide as they could be. The fact that Bienley had gone and gotten himself a tattoo was mind-blowing enough, but it was no ordinary tattoo. There, on Bienley's back, was a masterpiece. Their names, "Bienley" and "Devon", were intricately etched, as if they were part of a beautiful, ethereal story. And woven around them was a delicate string of feathers, each one seemingly fluttering in a gentle breeze, as if carrying their love on its wings.

I push away all the thoughts as the darkness leads me to the inside bar, the shelves lined up with vintage alcohol and wine gleams against my eye I sit on the bar stool, watching with gleam as the darkness mixes my alcohol, he’s wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves up to reveal those sexy tattoos, my heart seems to quicken anytime I see them. “A glass, angel?” He asks, setting the glass on the table. There’s this way that the darkness talks, calm and steady, like he doesn’t give a fuck of what world thinks. I wish I could talk like that. However, when he stretches his fingers, I see something that almost makes me want to drop dead, on his left fingers written in shimmering dark ink i

I don’t miss the way her eyes flicker to my father, as if this brings back memories of her own ceremony. She then says something in an unknown tongue and I feel a brief burning sensation on the fourth finger of my left hand. My eyes widen in shock when I see an intricate, woven tattoo with the letter V in the center - Vega and Volkova. “We all understand the gesture that you are now making. Taking the hand of the one who loves you is the symbol of the unspoken bond you two share; a bond you made when you were both five years old, and a bond that still persists.”