Dragon Tattoo On Chest Novels & Stories

Dragon starts rolling up his sleeves, revealing faded Calavera tattoos, “Chain’s fine. Got a tension tool in my box. I’ll fix it antes de que (before) sundown.” Poking at the rusted exhaust, “Pfft. Tool ain’t magic, kid. And this exhaust? Sounds like a dying chupacabra.” Dru stifles a laugh. I shoot her a glare, but I'm trying to hide my own smirk with my beard. Dragon shakes his head, then glances up towards Dru on the porch, “¿En serio (Seriously) You think I’d let her hurt? I seen what happens when you don’t guard your crew.” Dragon rolls up his sleeve further, revealing a tattooed date—“2003–2019”—inked beneath the Calavera’s hollow eyes. The numbers curl like smoke from a prayer candle,

"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?"

My body tingled, the pain on my butt cheek sending a jolting message to my brain. This time, he fully turned until he was staring at me. It was my turn to ogle him. Black and red ink ran the length of his arms, one sleeve extending to the outer side of his chest, and leaving his pectoral muscles bare. I traced the intricate design on that specific one, and when I made out an angry dragon swallowing the little red heart just right above his left rib cage, I knew damn well that any chances of redemption for this man were long gone. They were gone before decided to ink THAT onto his skin.

His top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the kind of tattooed, chiseled chest that didn’t belong in real life but here it is looking at me My mouth went dry and I gulped down nothing The ink on his skin curled over his abs that looked sculpted from sin, his veins snaked down his arms, and his hand wrapped around a glass of something dark. He looked older. Maybe in his late thirties or early forties. Somewhere around my dad’s age, but hotter than hell. My eyes traveled up from his dragon tattoo, tracing his chest to his sharp jawline. God, that jaw. Laced with stubble I wanted to feel dragging across my thighs.

Doughy from good living and laziness. Drakon is carved from granite. His chest is a landscape of muscle and violence. A jagged white scar runs from his collarbone to his ribs—a knife wound, old and deep. Another scar, a bullet graze, marks his side. But it’s the ink that holds me. A massive tattoo covers his torso. Wolves. A pack of them, snarling, fighting, running. They wrap around his ribs and disappear onto his back. It’s a masterpiece of shadow and ink.

I thank her, and we chat as she hands me something and shows me where I can change. It’s a black teddy with stain ties on the thong. It’s nice and leaves nothing to the imagination. I turn and look at my back in the mirror. My Chinese dragon tattoo covers my back. It’s open paw under my shoulder blade holds an orb. In that orb is the Mother’s Revenge emblem, but it is tattooed with invisible ink. Only a certain light will make it visible.

Dante says in a low voice, full of annoyance, and I hear Nico’s footsteps retreat. I chuckle and watch him walk away, recalling that I haven’t seen his naked body properly before. A blush crept onto my cheeks when I realised that he had slept naked next to me. His body was glorious. He was tall and incredibly well built, not too much muscle, and it fit his body perfectly. The large Dragonetti Dragon tattoo took up the entirety of his back with its wings snaking into his sides where there were a series of numbers tattooed. His left bicep had what looked like a horned female demon and over his ribs, he had the Omerta written in its entirety. The tattoos on his chest and back complimented his b

I heard her sharp intake of breath at her first sight of my naked chest. I'm vain enough to like the feel of her eyes on me, the way she looked at me like she really liked what she saw. I walked slowly towards her, trying not to spook her. Her hands came up and caressed my chest, her fingers tracing the dragon tattooed on my chest. She bit her lip and moaned in her throat. That shit was sexy as fuck. It was almost as if she couldn't help herself. "Let's take this off, shall we?" I helped her off with her clothes and brought her back into my arms before she had time to become embarrassed.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

His dazzling blues watch each of my reactions and swallow them up whole heartily for as expected I am over the moon with delight and bountiful love for him. Then he clasps onto my wrist his thumb lingering upon my pulse and lays my palm flat over his beating heart against his tattoo. "Drahá." He beams down and my lips quiver a need to cry overwhelming me. This is the sweetest gesture anyone has ever done for me, he has printed 'me' into his skin for life. This proves just how much I mean to him body, heart, mind and soul. Drahá means beloved and this is why he chose the left side of his chest right above his heart as the location. "I had always kept this side untouched for I wanted to have y