Novel & Cerita Couple Fingerprint Tattoo

Chandler couldn't help but plant kisses on his wife's shoulder blades, tracing the tattoo of his name, which had come as a complete surprise to him. He never imagined she'd do something like that for him. . He could tell she was declaring that she was his and he was hers by having his name tattooed on her back in such he fonts. He was so overjoyed that when the two finally had some alone time on the private island he had chosen for their wedding, he simply pounced on her and began to devour her.

Her companion replied, equally impressed, "Yeah! Where did they find this model? He has a remarkable build and a gorgeous back!" At that, Annie's gaze landed on the red birthmark at my waist. She froze for a moment, then shook her head and scoffed. "He's okay. Compared to others, he's still far from perfect." With a sharp, mechanical buzz, Hudson started the machine. I was pinned firmly to the chair, paralyzed by terror. The sharp needles, without any ink, pressed directly into my back, performing a brutal dry-run "tattoo". My body convulsed in pain. This forbidden blood-tattoo technique was agonizing. The needles sliced through my skin at high speeds, using my own blood to trace the design.

I murmured while examining the included photographs. One image depicted Aurora during her teenage years, alongside a teenage boy, evidently deeply in love. Presumably, this was her mate. Another photograph captured the boy shirtless, his shorts riding low enough to reveal a discreet D&D tattoo just below his abdomen, where his V-shaped muscle disappeared beneath his shorts. The tattoo would have gone unnoticed if the photographer hadn't intentionally focused on it. A third photograph showed the two of them reclining together, the camera zeroing in on their matching initials tattooed on their skin.

It felt like walking a tightrope over fire — one wrong move, and I would fall, consumed by flames. I watched him, mesmerized. His body was lean, sculpted, every muscle defined, every tattoo a story. He had new ones. Three, to be exact. One was our birth date. Another was “Lii,” written in a design I had once doodled, combining our names. The third was a phrase — “You're mine” — written in my handwriting, with my thumbprint etched beside it. I traced on his “You’re mine” tattoo, which was below Lii on his chest and gently kissed it. I could feel his heart throb under my touch.

Both of us make appointments at a tattoo shop after our honeymoon and get a band tattooed around our left ring fingers. It's permanent, just like the depth of love I have for her and always will.

She had reached her goal and was now the Bellator champion. An arm encircled her waist with a familiar hand pulling her into his side. Instinctively, Taz reached down and touched the tattoo on his outer wrist. A small bill of sale declaring that his body, heart and soul had been sold to the Devil herself. Linking her fingers with his, she played with his titanium wedding band. Running through the center was a rainbow in support of his daughter. Beneath the ring, in the style of her trademark rainbow braids, TAZ was tattooed on his ring finger.

Finally, I had second brother and treated him like my own brother, he said with joy. Atty. Nicdao, Mr. Jones and I, are best friends since then. One time, Mr. Jones invited us in a tattoo shop and said, "As a sign of our strong friendships, let's put a tattoo on our pulse." We went to the tattoo shop and followed Mr. Jones, the tattoo maker asked what sign we want to be painted in our pulse, Atty. Nicdao suggested an infinity sign. So, we agreed. I told them to put it on my left hand because I'm left-handed, they wanted to make it uniform so, they asked the tattoo maker to make the tattoo on their left hand too, he said reminiscing those days, he smiled. "I missed them"

His hesitantly brings his fingers to my tattoo, his touch ghosting over my skin. I scrutinize the tattooed letters on his fingers. A, M, L, R, O. They don't spell anything but here I am, telling myself that they probably stand for something. He's barely touching me but my entire body is on fire, I want his touch so bad it hurts my chest. I feel like I'm trapped in a small box and I can't breathe or move or think. Our eyes lock and I realize that we're both panting, chests heaving, fucking electrifying.

I don't think too much about it as I don't want to start comparing my silly husband to my sex partner. After cleaning him up, I don't wear him his clothes. He's too heavy and I seriously can't start struggling to put his clothes on, so I just cover him with the sheets instead. And I will love to see the look on his face when he wakes up naked. When I bring the sheets up to his waist, my eyes wander on his tattoos. On his upper chest are three claw marks and ‘La bete’ is written beneath it, then on his right hand, just beneath his sleeve are two beasts dragons. They are miles apart and seem to be gunning at each other to fight. And on his upper shoulder are over four ravens. They stretch righ

"Also..." His fingers traced the rough and uneven surface of the skin above his back, his gaze narrowing slowly, containing a madness that no one could comprehend. On his unseen back, the skin was rough and uneven. Only his fingers could clearly feel it. Just like the six clan heads, in the same position, with the same pattern, and the same color. An exquisitely detailed blood-red maple leaf tattoo!