Dark Gothic Finger Tattoos Novels & Stories

Something… distant, yet somehow trapped inside me… trying to reach me. And the ache is growing stronger with every breath. But so is the pleasure. The pressure against my clit is stealing my air. My palms press against his chest, both our skins smeared with dried blood. That’s when I notice it — a faint spiral tattoo, barely darker than my own skin, etched around my ring finger. For a heartbeat, my world blacks out. I close my eyes, and all I can see are brown irises. Eyes with no face. A voice echoes in my head:

There is no way she will call this a one night event when I’m through with her. /Luna Gwyneth-/ Alba starts and I cut him off. Fuck plans, strategies and plots. This…this is something. It might be Dark Arts, she could be a fucking witch for all I care but all I know is I need to have her. She tugs away my tshirt and gasps at my tattoos. “They’re amazing,” she coos, her fingers trailing over the intricately patterned artwork covering my shoulders, pecs and back. Black twisted ropes, dots, stars and swirling, ancient texts cover me. I should explain them to her but I am already dizzied by the strength of her arousal. She strokes the patterns around my shoulders as I tend to the raindrops on he

But before my fingers can even touch it, a hand clamps around my wrist. My body goes tight with instinct, a breath away from lashing out. For some reason I do not know, I glance down and I freeze. A tattoo coils around the man’s forearm, dark in ink, old but clear and I see the tattoo of a crescent moon split by a fang, wrapped in black vines. The Nightwalker crest. Ezra’s mark. Fuck. Slowly, my eyes trail from the man’s forearm, up past the rolled sleeves stretched tight over his arms and across his solid, square shoulders. When I finally meet his gaze, his eyes are a cold, steel grey, fixed and unblinking beneath a heavy brow.

He couldn't die just like that! "Spare me, spare my life. I'm willing to be your slave and serve you..." The Golden-scale Blood Crocodile's soul roared in the throes of death. In the sky, the beautiful girl's hand controlling the God-suppressing Seal stopped. She stretched out her delicate hand and bent her fair tender fingers, which were like freshly peeled spring onions. A strange dark tattoo emerged from her fair palm, releasing a kind of strange power to capture the Golden-scale Blood Crocodile's soul. At last, the soul was refined into a crimson light, sinking into the tattoo.

Heat twisted low again, fingers itching to trace dragon tattoo, shatter glass cages together. Sleep evaded, penthouse glass reflecting endless night. Eiko's nod gateway, pinning display foreplay. Game layered darker, forbidden pulls magnetic. Chicago breached its signature warning, claim. I countered tomorrow, rivals crushed, his obsession my lever. Two predators, steps shadowed closer, collision inevitable. Ruin beckoned sweetly.

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."

And finally, on the back, there is a large phoenix with a cursive name on the top. Obscurité. Darkness. "I have another one in my hand." He showed his hand with a tattoo of a skull. "How come I have never noticed those?" I asked with surprised, never in life, I saw those tattoos. This is insane I'm must be going crazy. "Calm down the one on my hand I just got like last week." He chuckled and I sighed. "This is beautiful." I said in admiration as I gazed at his tattoos on his hand and his left arm.

I had a folder with all the entries for the tattoo ideas in it. "My favorites are these three." I mind-linked. She took out the top three and looked at them. The first one was a crescent moon with a swirling cloud thing behind it. The description was that we were called shadow pack, so it would make sense that we had a shadow of the moon to represent us. She then looked at the next one. It was two hands that looked to be made from shadows reaching for one another. Then she came to the last one.

Jericho smiles warmly, “Coffee would be great. Darling, would you like a cup?” “Yes, please.” Gina grins. It was at this point when I notice something different about her neck. Gina is sporting a fresh mark at the crook of her neck that looks like a scar that has been tattooed over. It’s all black and has kind of a tribal feel. It has imagery depicting a full moon with claw marks on either side circled by a large bite mark that wraps from the front of her shoulder to the back.

“So… those things I saw earlier... they were really d*mons?” “They were,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Whether they’re the same ones from the mansion or not, it doesn’t really matter. Shadow fiends all come from the same hell.” I let that sink in. Same hell. That explained the creepy vibes, but it didn’t explain him. I glanced down at his arm—the one with the tattoo. My brows furrowed. Earlier… that thing moved. Like smoke twisting off his skin. My hand moved on its own, tracing over the ink on his forearm. It looked like thorny vines—dark, twisted, and sharp. But now I saw it: there were little streaks of red hidden between the thorns. Was that… blood?