Crypt Keeper Tattoo Novels & Stories

His tousled, gelled hair made him look hotter than ever and my gift- a lovers' chain made of platinum and diamonds adorned his long, s*xy neck, from where my mark beautifully peered out. The robe had a deep V neck and a tattoo with Timz written on one side of the chest, making me want to kiss the hell out of it. That tattoo wasn't there before !! Kyler chuckled and replied, "Maybe if you are lucky, then you might get laid tonight, Miss,” he winked at me before letting his Beta escort him out. You bet I will. Grrrrr. "Damnnnnn,” Dre came barging in, inside my room and plopped down on the bed with his sneakers clad feet on my lap !!

“Says the guy who has his girl’s name tattooed across his heart.” “Hey!” Theo points toward Brock. “I’m not the only one, have you seen Brock’s tat on his ribs lately?” Jax’s eyes fly wide as his head snaps toward Brock. “You didn’t…” Brock leans back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Damn right I did.” He grabs for the hem of his shirt, yanking it up to reveal a tattoo inked on his side. It’s a detailed piece with a forest treeline and a wolf howling to the moon, and sure as shit, running through the middle of it is his mate’s name: Astrid. The forest design and the letter A look a little faded, but the rest of Astrid’s name is a shade darker, like it’s a fresh addition.

His cock stood rigid against his stomach, already leaking from the slow, teasing prostate massage she’d given him while the plug still nestled deep inside. He heard her moving—soft footfalls, the metallic clink of tools, the low hum of the tattoo machine being tested. When she removed the blindfold, the first thing he saw was her: naked, skin gleaming with oil, Harlan’s heavy signet ring hanging between her breasts on a thin chain. In her hand: the tattoo gun, needle already loaded with black ink. Alex’s heart slammed against his ribs. “The family crest,” she said softly, almost reverently. “On the shaft. Permanent. Unremovable. The final seal that you belong to the line—and to me.”

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.

At least, that is what I tell myself. Ryker doesn't answer me. Instead, he crouches low in front of me, his massive frame folding down like a predator that wants to toy with its prey. I catch the nasty manner with which his knuckles are bruised with scars, looking so rough like they have seen more than their fair share of fights. I also recognize the serpent tattoo coiling up his right forearm, with another tattoo that is a dead man’s skull circled by a crescent moon in blood-red ink right on his left bicep.

You'd be nothing but a tomfool if you underestimate him because he has all of the most hidden information about the underworld in his cryptic brain. Don't judge a book by its cover, right? "Then you tell me." I raise my eyebrow and take a sip from my drink. "The tattoo is a sign of the Bratva and it indicates their loyalty to the mafia family. When they assign as a member of the mafia, they cosign their life to the Devil and get the tattoo. Only exclusive members, who have seen him, get the tattoo on the neck. But the others get it on their wrist." He murmurs and keeps serving the drinks to the people.

Not him. Just. Like. Everything. Else. "Yes, Pakhan." I bow my head with reverence, and Aleksander's eyes drift down to the tattoo on my wrist, where his gaze lingers. All the men in the Knights who pass The Reaping at the age of sixteen receive the Viking Futhark rune for defense tattooed on the underside of their wrist. They then receive the Greek Sigma symbol once they're initiated into the Brotherhood. I have neither because not only should no one know of my existence and lineage, but I was supposed to die that night seventeen years ago.

A massive tattoo stretched across his back, dark, swirling lines that formed a wolf’s head surrounded by a crescent moon. Kieran stood at the counter, chopping vegetables with the precision of a surgeon. His long red hair fell over his shoulders in loose waves, and his tattoo was just as beautiful as Kai’s: a roaring dragon with flames curling down his spine, its tail disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Kylan, of course, was leaning against the fridge with a smirk that could melt steel. His tattoo was a constellation of stars and a running wolf, the design wrapping around his ribs and down his left side.

she muttered. He raised it up to his chest, revealing a tat that looked like Asian writing. “Nice ink,” she breathed out as she sat up a bit more to get the best view of him. “What does it mean?” He shrugged. “Maybe someday I will tell you, bossy girl.” He then lifted the shirt higher. She caught writing on his arms. “Wait…. Keep your arms up. Greer rolled his eyes, but he did it. Under one arm was the inked words Strength & Honor. She gazed at the other. Enlightenment. What an odd thing for a man to have as a tattoo. “Damn…” Her panties just got wet as her breathing picked up.

He asked as he breathed out his smoke. I take off my jacket and my shirt to show him my tattoo of the Criemsons. The tattoo shows a blood sword that encircles with vipers and roses that symbolizes our gang or mafia name. I swiveled to indicate my identity while his ladies gape at me like the last cupcake in a bakery they wanted to devour. "Holy mother of great mercy" He grinned. "Now can we converse interaction?" I asked before I put my clothes in and I know his kittens will groan for consuming clothes.