Dragon Tattoo On Chest Novels & Stories

Morgana didn’t say a word, her mumbling chanting as she held the salve between her fingers glowed with a red tint. “Pull her dress to the side so I may see her mark.” Her eyes narrowed, looking at the deep black tattoo on my shoulder. Shaking her head, she placed the salve on my mark. Acid on my skin would have felt better than this. Letting out a growl, my dragon thrashed inside me. I jerked away the best I could, but the bindings around my chest proved to be too strong.

In the left portion of his chest, lies a blue dragon that was emitting fire from its mouth. It looks much like a tattoo to me, except that, it was moving. The mark on his chest is moving! His tattoo fascinated me so much, I had to stop myself from touching it. "What was that?!" I exclaimed when another set of marks appeared on his chest along with the dragon. The mark shows two swords crossing against each other behind the blue glowing creature. "This is the mark of prophecy, the dragon symbolizes the fated savior, and this two crossing swords behind it, symbolizes us, your guardians."

I moaned in response to the fire Dominique touch did on my body. I couldn't bear it anymore, the fire in me was increasing. I tugged off Dominique’s shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion. My hands roamed his broad and muscular chest, tracing the contours of his muscles before sliding lower, exploring the taut skin of his abdomen, he had one of the most perfectly smooth abs you could ever see. By the right side of his abs, he has a tattoo of a majestic dragon seated on a throne. It was a sight to behold. I Instinctively roamed my hands round it, caressing it like I was appreciating the work of art my eyes was beholding.

He went down to his knees and he kept screaming as I looked at him. “Don’t,” a voice hissed at me as I took a step forward. Chase stopped screaming and took a few deep breaths and then he stood up and I saw the dragon tattoo covering his back. It was a shade lighter than Lucas’s dragon and I felt immensely proud of him.

“You’ll be okay soon. Try to relax. It’s okay.” In a daze, I trace my fingertips over the tattoos on his chest, studying them with hazy curiosity. My breathing slows, and my heart rate calming. The sound of the hotel room’s ventilation is a distant hum in my ear, a white noise that helps my mind settle. I tap Thor’s chest tattoo, the one in the shape of a dove over his heart. “What’s this one supposed to mean?” I ask, barely above a whisper. “To honor my mother,” he says. I’m surprised by his honesty.