Draco Malfoy Tattoo Novels & Stories

He paused his ministrations on my neck and with one flick he stripped of his tee. "There, touch me." He groaned and I didn't want any further persuasion. My hands glided over his toned chest, running over the dragon tattoo. "Why is this for?" I asked, my fingertips grazing over the fire tattooed on his abdomen. He bit his lip. "It represents power and victory over bad. I had it engraved when I couldn't take any more of my step-mother's false accusations and controlling nature. I was feeling weak and I needed to feel something. I went to a party and got dunk and somehow landed up in a tattoo parlor. He decided to draw this a sign that I am powerful and can rise from ashes." He paused and grin

Draco said, licking the mark he createcon me which has faded a lot. Summoning his fangs, he bit down on the spot again, marking me once again. "You're mine!" He mumbled, licking off the blood as I began getting aroused.

The tattoo Jasper and I had on our necks was drawn boldly on the lid of the box. “We have found in Jasper. Hurry! Let’s get this to Alpha Draco…” “Not so fast.” My heart skipped a beat and when I looked up, I saw Ragnar staring down at me with a smirk on his face. “I believe I made a deal with Draco,” He said sinisterly. “Now, if you don’t mind, hand over the box and the other pieces of the Amulet…”

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

Drank the left over juice on his table and then went back to sleep again. " Lady Liana! " his happy, excited voice startled me up from my dream. " yeah! " I stretched and yawned. " Here! How does it look?" He showed me an identity card. Draco's face was photo shopped into it. He looked like a Greek God. Flawless. The name read Drake Drakon. What the heck. "Why did you change his name? His name is Draco! " He looked at me with surprise. " Dragons have names as well? "

No one could tell that way that inside me was purely chaos. Vasilis turned Danae over, ripping the clothing over the spot where the seal sat. An ancient symbol in red and blue unfading ink. "Slit your palm and place it over the seal. Quick about it." Delphina ordered whilst Vasilis chanted. I let my beast slip and my claws dug into my palm, piercing my skin. I crouched and placed it over the seal before it could heal. I looked away from the leaking liquid that reminded me whose child I was. Who I truly was and how powerless i'd become.

Draco was sitting on my bed. Drunk. Silent. His bare chest gleamed under the dim light, covered in faint scars. His slacks hung low on his hips. His hair was tousled, eyes bloodshot. A half-empty bottle of scotch sat beside him on the floor. He looked up at me slowly. And smiled. But it wasn’t the charming, smug grin he usually wore. This one was cold. Tired. Mad. “How the fuck did he get in here…” I whispered, backing toward the bathroom, but it was already too late.

His inner shirt followed before they donned him in his robe. The remaining servant standing by shoved forward and led the lord to his dresser. Immediately he took his seat and gazed at the mirror, he looked at his scarred face. He remembered vividly how he got the scar. It was during the great purge when he shoved into the tavern he owned with Andriandita to get her away before his father's men reached the tavern. Unfortunately for him, Draco arrived late and saw his female lying in a pool of her own blood, her face and body marred. He roared into the air while cradling her. At that moment, he saw some of the sentinels shoving out of the tavern, and Draco attacked them in a rage. He fought a

He beckoned me over. I walked to the corpse of the assassin, the one with the poison spear. Drax was holding the rogue's arm up. He had ripped the tattered sleeve away to reveal the forearm. There, branded into the greyish skin, was a tattoo. It was a black circle with a jagged red lightning bolt cutting through it. "I know this mark," Drax said, his voice grim. "It’s the sigil of the Iron Hounds. Malakar’s elite guard from the old wars."

As they entered the final courtyard, three figures rushed toward Adrian, but they were swiftly subdued by the Draco Force and collapsed to the ground. The seventh-grade men knelt before Adrian, trembling uncontrollably, unable to move or speak. "It appears to be you three," Adrian remarked, lifting the constraints on them. "What brings you to our establishment?" inquired the leader. The man’s upper body was exposed, revealing a black dragon tattoo adorning his back. Unlike the vibrant tattoos on Thalia, this one appeared crude and cheap.