Dantes Inferno Tattoo Mga Nobela at Kwento

He nodded and I touched his hand. His hand was so big. Trust me, if he tells you that I was attacked by a shark you'd believe it. His hand had a lot of scars and I'm pretty sure this Datura Flower tattoo is covering a bad scar oh and it has a tiny text underneath… Co-sa No-stra. What's that? “Cosa Nostra. What does it mean?” I asked as I read the tiny text under the Datura Flower. “I'll have to kill you if I tell you.” Ha-ha. That's a Joke Right?

My mouth began going down from kissing his neck to that strong broad chest, my eyes were closed but then I looked up to catch his expression after he held back a groan in his throat, but my eyes landed on his chest who welcome me with a new tattoo, I brushed my fingers on the ink, This tattoo was a combination of words which I knew was Spanish, those words were completing a circle and huge deadly snake was printed between them, starting from Amor (Love), Escapar (Escape), Desamor (Heartbreak), Venganza (Revenge), Misión (Mission), I could few words of it. “What is this, Armando,” I examined the details of that horrific tattoo, my eyes couldn’t move from it, It was obvious from some words tha

Her fingers trembled as she undid the last button, pushing the fabric aside to reveal my skin. "Greedy little virgin," I teased, but I shrugged off my shirt, exposing my tattooed chest—rippling muscles, scars from my rough past, all symbols of the darkness she was embracing. The ink swirled in intricate patterns: a snarling wolf on my pec, vines of thorns wrapping around my abs, each one a story of conquest and pain. Her eyes widened, fingers tracing the ink, sending shivers down my spine as her nails scraped lightly over a scar. "Touch all you want. But remember, this body is your master now. Every ridge, every scar—it's yours to worship, but only because I allow it."

His finger strokes down my neck and over the tattoo. “So, why this?” Jax’s words are whispered into my ear. “That night of the hunt, I mentioned that it was a pity it wouldn’t scar. I liked the idea of having something permanent on me to show I belonged to you. Then I remembered the bite and thought that would be perfect.” It was perfect at that moment. “And the symbol?” I smile. “If you look close enough, it’s the letters D, B, J, and C combined.” I feel him shift, and he exhales heavily.

I got even more wet and excited just by thinking about the things he would do with me and the positions he'd put me in. Gasping at the discovery, I couldn't believe it. No way it couldn't be, not him, not Mariah's brother. The tattoo was proof it was the exact same one, an angel with burning wings falling, it was in the exact same placement as well on his chest. Fuck! it was him, Danny's the guy from the fucking club.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

“I just want to taste you. I won’t go further─not yet.” I don’t argue. Hell, I can barely think when he kisses his way down my neck and sucks hard on the tendon above my shoulder. Gasping with pleasure, I lift his shirt and nip his earlobe. “Take it off,” I murmur. Without a word, Lucifer pulls away and removes his shirt, revealing his broad chest, carved pectorals and contoured abs. Reaching up, I glide my hands up his velvety skin and explore his muscles. Goosebumps spread across his skin, and his eyes heat with desire. My heart stutters at the sight of his sinewy muscles moving beneath his flawless skin as he leans close. Watching intently, I let my eyes drop hungrily across his Adonis li

dangerous. Denzel was waiting on the porch when we pulled up, leaning against a post with a beer in one hand and that easy, slow smile that had haunted me for years. He wore faded jeans that hugged his powerful thighs, a simple black t-shirt stretched across his chest, and scuffed boots. His arms were crossed, biceps flexing as he straightened up. "Kenzie. Good to see you, kiddo." His voice was low, gravelly, like smoke over whiskey. He pulled me into a quick, one-armed hug, and I caught the scent of him... leather, pine, and masculinity. My nipples tightened against my thin tank top before I could stop it.

His eyes were open, frozen in an expression of surprise, his mouth slightly ajar as if he had been caught mid-breath. I exhaled slowly, kneeling beside him. I had lost men before. I had seen death in every imaginable form. But this? This was a message. A message written in blood. Matteo stood beside me, his stance tense. "Bastardi left their mark," he muttered, pointing to the crude symbol carved into Dante’s forearm. I already knew what it was before I even looked. Picasso. Rage coiled in my gut, tightening like a noose. The Picassos.

He groans and begins to take off his top. Fuck. I hiss as I see his torso on display. His pecs are huge and well defined from working out in the gym like he does. His shoulders are broad and I spot a new tattoo on his right shoulder. I know all of Dante’s tatts from seeing him at family barbecues and in the summer swimming in the outdoor pool at Isaac’s. “What is that, it has writing on it?” From where I am lying I can’t make out the writing, it looks to be in italic.