Novelas y relatos de Cute Badass Hip Tattoos

Her hips are curvy, her small perky boobs are round and firm, her abs are defined and her waist is trim. Never in my wildest dream have I dreamt of having such a nice figure. With a hair of fiery red, bright blue eyes, a few freckles on my cheeks, long eyelashes and full lips, I look cute and sexy at the same time. It feels unreal. I turn around to get a view of my new back through the mirror. I let out a gasp, my eyes wide. There's a huge butterfly tattoo right there and beaneath it are scars. So many scars. The sight of them makes me sob. It must have hurt so bad.

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

And at this moment, his mind was on nothing but the feel of Jade's lips on his cock. Jade epitomized the look of the stereotypical bad girl. She had spiky green hair, and piercings and tattoos everywhere. She had five earrings on each ear, she had two rings on the left side of her nose, one on her right eyebrow, one on the left side of her lower lip, one on her tongue, one on each nipple and one in her navel. A spider web tattoo decorated her right shoulder all the way from the neck to the upper arm, with the spider itself sitting in the center; on her left shoulder blade was a vicious dragon, on her lower belly was a flaming skull, and some wicked-looking ornamental designs covered some oth

The light scattering of hair on his lower abdomen disappeared into the towel and the only thing marring the beauty of his skin was the angry red mark on his chest, just a few inches away from his heart where he had been shot yesterday. Now that he was finally unclothed, I was able to see the tattoo on his left arm. It was a picture of a phoenix in flight and it was magnificent. The artist had focused on every tiny detail down to the red eye of the phoenix and somehow, it suited him. He was just as majestic as the bird.

I used to have a thing for males with skateboards that wore their hats like this, I wonder if he has one? When his shirt hits the floor and I fully see his massive … practically whole body tattoo, my mouth goes dry. I step to him and quickly begin to trace my fingers over the reaper. Then the hourglass and the skull. It’s so vivid that it’s nearly real, like its a scene ready to turn 3D and jump out at me. It’s hot but also damn terrifying. He lets me touch him even as he continues to get his pants off. “One sec,” he says, stepping back and trying to unlace his boots. Those are hot too, I have a few huge pairs of combat boots. Kind of miiiight have a shoe fetish. Apparently a hat fetish too.

Cade asks, allowing me to trace every curve of the ink. “That you’ve added some new tattoos since I was here last.” “Want to see my favorite?” I push off his chest, my interest piqued. The knowing smirk on his lips only fuels my curiosity. He bites his lip playfully. I watch closely as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. I gasp, my eyes catching the small tattoo permanently etched low on his hips. “Cade,” I whisper, reaching out to trace the delicate lines. “It’s…”

my greedy, traitorous eyes were feasting. He was magnificent. A masterpiece of masculinity and danger. His chest was broad and sculpted, rippling with muscle that shifted as he moved his arm. His abs were defined, a hard, carved six-pack that disappeared into the waistband of his low-hanging grey sweatpants. And the tattoos—oh God, the tattoos. They didn't just stop at his arms. They sprawled across his chest, dark, intricate designs of skulls and roses and thorns that wrapped around his pectorals and dipped lower, leading the eye straight down to the V-line of his hips.

Until that little dare. They wanted me to get a real tattoo. Something small but edgy. A delicate crescent moon wrapped in thin, twisting vines, placed just above my right hip on my lower back. It would peek out under cropped tops and make me feel like I belonged. At least that’s what I kept telling myself on the drive over. The only problem was the artist. Jax—my stepbrother. Twenty-six, built like he bench-pressed motorcycles, covered in dark, aggressive ink that crawled up his arms and disappeared under the tight black t-shirts he always wore.

she muttered, spinning. And there he was. A guy. He was a walking cliché, but the kind that still managed to punch you in the gut. Barely-there boxers rode low on his hips like they had something to prove, peeking out beneath a half-buttoned shirt that clung to a chest sculpted with just enough arrogance. Tattoos curled down his arms, visible hints of whatever mythology he’d decided to live by. The kind of ink that screamed, I make my own rules, but probably had a backstory involving tequila and ego.

“Come on, rookie. Let me see what you’re capable of. This is a mandatory lesson to join Cougar Squad!” The man named Hyena immediately grabbed Philip from behind. Philip stepped back, but the man managed to pull Philip’s clothes apart. At this time, he saw the snake pattern on Philip's chest! “Guess what I saw? This rookie actually has a very beautiful tattoo on his body. Let everyone see it!” After saying this, Hyena was about to tear the clothes off Philip's chest.