Dark Romance Book Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

He moved me until I was a rag doll in his hands, until we both shattered together. After, his words melted me: “I want a mark—a tattoo. Something to show I belong to you.” My heart soared. I marked him with magic—a gray wolf, staring at a full moon encircled by my name. It suited him. It suited us. He admired it in the mirror while I slipped into a silk robe and padded down the hall to peek at the babies. The corridor was silent. Until I saw him. Renzo. Lurking near my door, his eyes were dark pools of hunger. His erection strained his pants. He must have heard us.

My hair is down my back in waves, covering the exposed skin. When I look down the dress, I can see the black ink of the tattoo I had done in the month that Dalon and I hadn’t spoken. I had wanted a permanent reminder of him and our time together. A reminder that Italy wasn’t just some dream. The tattoo is simple, but the meaning behind it is powerful. The tattoo is a sun with a moon inside it to symbolize two opposite worlds coming together in the most unexpected but beautiful ways. Like an eclipse that is so rare, but so powerful and beautiful to witness.

I thought to lie but his tone wasn’t judgy so I answered honestly. “My ex-husband.” “And this is your first tattoo?” Thankfully, no further questions about the ex-husband. “Yes, first and only.” “You know you could just just remove it instead of drawing over it if you’re not a fan of tattoos.” I had thought of that but no, I wanted a coverup tattoo. It was going to be a bunch of zinnias, a flower that is known to thrive even in the harshest conditions. Drawing it over Harry’s name would be symbolic to say that regardless of my current challenges, I blossomed.

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

I also want to experience what it felt like to be satisfied sexually without having to go through the torture. I placed my fingers on his chest, and began to trace his smooth soft skin with my fingers. This was the first time I clearly saw the man who I'm mated with. He wasn't just handsome, he was damn hot. My eyes fell on the tattoo that divided his torso. It was a sign of a cupid, with a name written in the middle. "Andra" For some seconds, I wondered who Andra was. His lover perhaps? I've heard of many lovers who imprint their names on their bodies. For some reason, I began to feel sad. What is wrong with me? Why should I be feeling sad because of some tattoo imprinted on his chest?

I left his lips and moved my lips to his throat while my hands felt his sculpted abs,like he was carved out of the finest marble. I grazed my finger on his tattoo he had just below his right nipple. "It's a symbol from Roman mythology which signifies bravery and readiness for sacrifice for a good cause."He explained me about the beautiful tattoo.There were many on his back and biceps,most of them inked to hide his scars from old fights.I dropped a wet kiss on it and then trailed downwarda whereas my hand moved to his awakening member.

Letting go of Samantha’s hand, I watch as she positions herself on the chair before I move closer so I can stand next to her. “Great,” Dante murmurs. “I was told you want a tattoo of shaded bricks with a flower growing out of them.” Samantha nods. “And I want the words ‘stronger than ever’ over the bricks as if it’s graffiti.” Dante nods, then asks, “Where do you want the tattoo?” Her features tighten, and she looks more nervous than usual as she gestures at her side. When I realize it will be a couple of inches beneath her breast, there’s a burst of jealousy in my chest because Dante will be working close to what I consider mine.

Then she took a good look at his tattoos. Her gaze traced the ink that stretched across his chest, dark and patterned against his golden skin. The tattoo sprawled over his left pectoral, a fierce black wolf, its eyes red and dangerous, as if it could leap off his skin and bare its fangs at her. The details were breathtaking, each strand of fur etched with perfection.

He moved his hand to touch his breastbone beneath the muscular chest, caressing the exotic tattoo of the sakura flowers that intertwined and wrapped themselves around the word Snow that only he could read and understand. Mindlessly, he gazed at the tattoo he’d gotten nine months ago. It was a symbol of Sakura, of his Snow. He wanted to imprint her within his heart always and forever. Hence, every time he stared at the tattoo, he’d see her within his mind’s eye, and his heart would ache for her, for her love, for her warmth, for her kiss, for them to be together.

she commented. He looked up at her. “What?” “The tattoo,” she smiled. “Do you still remember what it stands for?” he asked. “I’m your nymph, which you got from the Greek Mythology nymph Calypso. You got it in that colour because it’s the colour of my eyes, which are your favourite thing about me. You made them loop the y to make a heart because I’m the only one who holds your heart. The paw signifies the pact we made that we would never let any wolf truly rule over us...” she trailed off.