Dragon Back Piece Tattoo Novels & Stories

Before I could recover from the state he put me in, and cover myself, Draco's hands wrapped around my throat and he pinned me to the bed, and surprisingly he didn't apply pressure. Before I could open my mouth to speak, he flipped me on my back, revealing the full tattoo. There, resting along the dip of my waist where my spine met my tailbone, was the tattoo. Thin black vines stretched across my lower back like sharp, broken wings, spreading from one side to the other. The lines branched out like small veins, meeting at the center of my back. Right above my tailbone sat a small flower, simple but clear, petals opening gently between the dark lines.

"The tattoo on the man who held them captive. The man who... who might have killed Nathan and... and Hero's parents.” "Okay, slow down," Kristina said, her tone gentle. "You said you knew the person? What are you talking about?" "The red dragon," I repeated, my hands shaking. "But it's not just a dragon. It's... it's symbolic. It has wings folded along the wolf's back, and a crown hovering above. The wolf... it's like it's becoming a dragon. Like it's going to be a ruler.” Kristina nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on mine. "Okay. That's... that's a very specific image. Where did you see this tattoo?"

Her eyes had widened at first when I took my jacket off and her gaze landed on the tattoos on my arms. “Take your shirt off please.” I complied and she swiveled her finger and I turned around so she could look at my dragon. “Uhm … I’ll be right back.” She hastily left the tent and I sat back down on the bed. My dragon was an anomaly, something unheard of and not seen by many. She probably had no idea what division to put me in. She appeared ten minutes later with a doctor, a man dressed in a green tracksuit and another man in a suit. I stood up as they entered the tent and the man in the suit took his glasses off. “Good morning Wynter, may I call you Wynter?”

I know we’ve had sex several times already, yet I still feel a deep ravenous need for him. Rising from the stool, I wrap my arms around his waist and place kisses on his back. His stomach clenches under my hands as I run them down his textured abs. “Tell me about your tattoos,” I whisper in his ear. He looks at me from the corner of his eyes, then pulls me in front of him, places my hand over his left pec, and moves it down his tight stomach. The tattoo is a large, red, and black dragon. The dragon’s head starts at his shoulder, and the tail ends at his bellybutton. The wings stretch over his right pec, and his claws extend over his ribcage.

He hurt her enough already. 'I will make you love me Nyra. I will protect you and cherish you like my queen. I promise' he vowed. She should have a tattoo to declare her as mine. "You must have a dragon tattoo on your body somewhere, right?" he asked tentatively. That's his claim on her. He is a dragon himself. He would know what will happen between mates. So it's not a surprise that he would know about the tattoo. "There is an orange dragon on my lower back. I didn't see the clear details about that tattoo. I know it's an orange dragon" she confessed. Drake's doubt solidified. 'She is my mate' he confirmed.

She gasped. A massive dark blue tattoo between his shoulder blades caught her eye. A dragon. Its wings were spread wide, the clawed tips arching over his shoulder blades, and it seemed to move when he moved his muscles. It was not unlike the dragons stitched on the dressing gown she wore. He must have an obsession with dragons. It was a bit odd, but who was she to talk when it came to obsessions? She loved old stones, and not because they were old or because they were sparkly or valuable, but because they were something pure and amazing that the earth had created.

But for Raeherys they had none. “All is well, Your Grace,” replied Igryth. The scale tattoos on their arms and neck signified one of the old traditions in Draconos. However, it slowly faded as thousands of years had passed—forgotten. Only the people in Seagrad remained true to their tradition as they believed dragon tattoos symbolized their strength and vanity.

He spoke with heavy breaths as if he was trying to control himself. “Okay.” I said still breathing hard myself. He sat up placing me in a sitting position before turning his back to me, removing his shirt. Across his back was a beautiful tattoo of a dragon. The swirls of red and gold matched his hair. It was a beautiful masterpiece; I had never seen anything like it before. I traced my fingers across the perfect lines, it was as if magic placed it there. Part of his actual skin. Impossible. I thought looking for the slightest mistake. My fingers traced up towards his shoulder where the head of the dragon sat.

My arms and chest were the most difficult thanks to all of the tattoos I've gotten over the years. As I carefully searched my chest, parting my hair to get a good look like one would do to a dog when looking for ticks, I noticed that the dragon on my chest seemed to look like it had large white-green tears coming from it's eyes, almost as if it had been crying and the tears dried on my skin. There were only three of them, but they were there all the same.

He’s wearing a large black coat and when he raises his left hand to run it through his hair an eye-catching tattoo appears, it’s a dragon tattoo coiled around his wrist. It's head resting on the inside of his palm while its tail is wrapped around his wrist, and the entire snaky body is covered in flames of red. Tilting my head in wonder, I can’t help but stare at the tattoo until it disappears when he puts his hand back down. The colours of the tattoo are so vivid and bright that it almost looks like it was painted on his skin. Not seeing anything else that could tell me why I’m uneasy next to him, I turn away and settle further into my seat to concentrate on the music from my earbuds.