Couples Tattoos Birds Novels & Stories

My body was burning at this point. And then, as if he couldn't bear the torture, he came closer to me. His chest pressed against my breasts, as he traced his finger along the swell of my breast along the sword tattoo. "Beautiful," he groaned as he bent closer to my collarbone, where I had a small tattoo of a dream bird's wing, with the words Fly written on it. He sucked on my tattoo was until I was writhing in pleasure. "I have found four," he murmured as he grabbed my hips in his hands and pulled me closer to him.

I don't know if he has tattoos on his back and chest but as much I have seen only his right arm is tattooed and his left arm is free of them. My eyes fell in a the tattoo of a tiny bird. It was small maybe part of a different tattoo but the detailing was impressive. The wings were huge, twice the size of the bird. The way her beak was pointed and the curve of her neck was draw, it amazed me. The only thing I could say was that it had magnificent detailing. "When you got this tattoo made?", I asked while tracing it. "The bird?", he asked. "Yeah.", I said. "It is a phoenix. I got it made after I say Amber. You named her after fire so I thought getting a phoenix made would be the right thing.",

"That's the best I can do for you." "I don't know who they are—" The spy pursed her lips, dragging down the collar of her shirt to reveal a blood red tattoo of a bird. "This is their symbol." Elsa moved closer so as to get a better look. The bird had its wings fully spread, majestically soaring into the skies like a king. 'What specie of bird is this?' She thought to herself.

I step toward her before I can stop myself, my eyes narrowed and honed on the symbol–a circle with two lines just off center. Her lips part to shout at me to back away, I’m sure, just as Chastan calls from downstairs. I meet her eyes. “Is that your wedding tattoo?” I ask, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Where did you say you were from?” “I didn’t,” I reply and tear myself from her side, hurrying down the stairs while my mind works overtime. All married couples in Endova and Teshka get those tattoos. My parents have them, matching sets, and every couple gets a different symbol decided upon by our priestesses.

When I raised my face to hold his gaze the playful mood had vanished, and his eyes had gone dark and intense. “I miss… your laughter, your beautiful body, your voice, your scent. Estera…” He stopped when his eyes caught the small tattoo of a bird in flight below my left breast on my ribcage. He raised a hand to brush his fingers over the delicate body modification, and I watched the play of emotions on his face. “A one-wing bird…” he whispered barely audibly, and a deep frown furrowed the center of his thick and shapely eyebrows, “I wanted a tattoo of your name on my back you didn’t let me do it, and when you pick something to ink on your body you pick a broken, wingless bird…” he paused and

Hayden grinned at me, like it was all effortless. “Let’s get out of here,” he smiled. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸 By the time we walked into the tattoo parlor, my hands were shaking. The artist nodded at Hayden, clearly aware of who he was, and then glanced at me. “You two getting matching tats?” I nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, we are.” “You have anything in mind,” he asked. I reached for Hayden’s wrist and traced a line. “Half a raven. The wings. He gets one, I get the other. When we’re together… it’s complete.”

The sensation of her around me, combined with the sting of the tattoo, sends an overwhelming rush of pleasure through me. With each careful stroke of the needle, she traces a new design onto my chest. The symbol, unique and powerful, reflects the merging of our lives. Her concentration is intense, but I can see the love in her eyes, feel it in the way her body moves against mine. This mark isn’t just for the world to see; it’s a testament to us—our bond, our passion, our forever.

his voice dropped lower, heavy with hurt. Before she could say anything, he lifted his sleeve, revealing a tattoo on his arm. It was the one with a woman’s face, half-hidden behind a rose. “The rose is for my best friend,” he said quietly. “Isabella. And the woman is my mother. They both loved roses, always spending time together in the garden.” he chuckled darkly, the sound sharp and empty. Then he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his other tattoos. He pointed at where the word Little Bird was inked in elegant cursive. “This one’s for you, my love.”

I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, bouncing slightly on his thighs, stifling a small moan when I felt his shaft harden behind my ass crack. “What about this one?” I leaned forward, squinting at a tattoo I hadn’t noticed before. It looked like a bird… or a dead bird, etched under his bicep. The ink was rough and fuzzy, like it had been done in a rush… no like it was done by a toddler. Adrian glanced at it, then quickly looked away. I didn’t miss the slight expression that flashed across his face. “It’s nothing,” he responded too fast. I leaned closer, mouthing the words written beneath it.

Immediately, I jerked my eyes upward. Too late. Those butt cheeks can’t leave my head, not for a very long time. I hated that my face was getting hot. Then I noticed the tattoos. A black raven stretched across his back, its wings half-spread on the back of his shoulders as though caught between flight and stillness. On his right shoulder was a black serpent curled over his left pec, glaring at the raven with so much intensity while the raven looked lonely and, worse, sad. More ink trailed across his back. Script. Symbols. Lines disappearing beneath fabric.