Bratva Tattoo Novels & Stories

Other than a serpent tattoo snaking across his hip and disappearing into his pubic hair, he'd had no tattoos on the bottom half of his body until now. "You've pledged your loyalty to the Bratva, haven't you? That's what the stars mean." She frowned. "What does this have to do with us?" He shook his head. I haven't pledged my loyalty to them. They are a means to an end. These stars are for you alone. My entry into their world ensures your safety. The higher I climb, the safer you are. You are my only motivation.

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

The natural waist dropped into a sheer fabric with flowers stitched into it. The scars have relaxed and really created a pretty chain-link pattern. Although our wolves really worked on healing me, they are just now calming down and looking like regular scars. I have grown accustom to them to the point that I want to get them tattooed. As a symbol of my strength and determination to not let evil win. Soft music was playing as I paced around this tent. The only thing I knew about this event was the smell of lilacs. “Ready?” Colt lifted the side and stepped in.

‘Don’t be scared Bratva Bitch, I’m sure you know what to do with this’ He pressed his length against her ass while his free hand moved to cup her breast, squeezing it through her crop top, she never wore a bra so it was too easy for him. Breathing heavily he pushed it up exposing them to his greedy hands, ‘My, my you are such a fucking whore Bratva Bitch. He lets you out with no bra? You are just asking for this then aren’t you?’

Alpha. The men rose. Even my father stopped breathing. I did not turn until he passed me, and when my eyes caught sight of him as he looked sideways at me, I knew exactly why they froze. It was Dimitri Volkov. Alpha of the Black Fang Pack. Pakhan of the Volkov Bratva. The monster whispered about by wolves and humans alike. He stopped in front of the table. “Why is there a girl on my floor?” One of the men cleared his throat. “Ivan Morozov brought her as partial payment.”

I knew at that exact moment, she was someone from my rivals or else none of this fucking bastards had the powers to look into my eyes. Out of nowhere, she stretched her arms out to grab the gun from my waist. Thanks to my hard training, I dodged it swiftly, and turned her back in a whip with her hairs. Right at that moment, my eyes zoomed at the traditional tattoo that all members carry in each gang. This woman had a tattoo of broken wings that made my blood boil in rage. Yanked hard by her hair, I growled to let my men know, " Fucking Hell Mateo! She is from Russian Bravta. How the fuck they know about this?"

"Is there a way to tell who is or isn't in the Bratva?" "Tattoos. Every man of the Bratva has some." The image of Sasha's inked knuckles flits through my memory. "What do they mean?" "Different things. Some signify their past deeds, terrible or great things they've done, and their ranks. It is a simple yet elegant system. A man need only show his tattoos to prove who he is and the weight of his words." An awful idea occurs to me, one so intense the French toast I ate curdles in my belly. "Am I going to be tattooed?"

“Something stronger than beer. One fucking Bratva brother was already a pain in the ass—now there’s two?” I stared at Viktor. At his hands. His mouth. The curve of his neck, exposed just enough to see the glint of a tattoo under the collar. It wasn’t Zenya’s tattoo. It was something else. A wolf? A dagger? I didn’t know. But my gaze lingered. And when I looked back up, Viktor was watching me watch him. He smiled. Fucking smiled. My stomach flipped. He tilted his head toward my pants and murmured, “Might want to do something about that little tent, malishka .”

I left his lips and moved my lips to his throat while my hands felt his sculpted abs,like he was carved out of the finest marble. I grazed my finger on his tattoo he had just below his right nipple. "It's a symbol from Roman mythology which signifies bravery and readiness for sacrifice for a good cause."He explained me about the beautiful tattoo.There were many on his back and biceps,most of them inked to hide his scars from old fights.I dropped a wet kiss on it and then trailed downwarda whereas my hand moved to his awakening member.

She could never have imagined that the brushes in front of her had been intended for guests. When the fog faded from the mirror, she opened her eyes and swore at her reflection. She could see the red and purple marks of the hickeys he had given her on her chest and neck. Then she put a trembling hand at the base of her neck. A kind of black tattoo had taken shape there. Three parts stood out. At the top stands the head of a black wolf baring its fangs. Then, behind the head of the animal, a crescent moon was drawn. And finally, just under the wolf's mouth, two elegantly intertwined letters: M.B.