Drogon Tattoo Novels & Stories

"Mine is on my forearm. But it is surrounded by a dozen other tattoos, so it just blends into the ink. No one notices it unless they know what to look for." “That’s smart” “But yours should definitely be hidden. In case Calian sees it. Somewhere you’ll never allow him to look.” She nods. Before they can even knock on the glass of the shop's front door, the heavy metal lock turns. The tattoo artist pulls the door open. “Dorian, you guys are late.” “Sorry about that, Mike. Mind giving her the Dracon, please.” “The Dracon?That's a first for you” Dorian doesn't reply to that obvious statement.

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

Elva and Nixie were present at the romance festival with Alex and Ivan and I am pretty sure that they are with them right now and that our dorm room will be practically empty. Adrian can spot through my lie, he sits upright, dressed in only sweatpants, “We are spending this day together.” He leans in and gives me a kiss on the temple. “Doing what exactly?” I watch as Adrian steps out from the bed, his bare back flexing. He has a tattoo of a dragon that runs from his back to his left arms. He said it was a drunken mistake years ago, but now he doesn’t regret it. I love it.

the dragon warrior informed Damien before he turned to face me and smirked. "You can leave us, all of you," Damien dismissed all three women in the room, who were all younger dragon ladies that I knew weren't his mate. Damien rose from the bed, picked up his towel, and wrapped it around his waist, with his back and hard buttocks facing me. I didn't see his shaft, not that I cared to see what he had. "You didn't let your fellow North dragons know that you're fit and here entertaining the women when you should be out calming your colleagues?" I questioned him. He laughed and turned to face me, revealing a tattoo of a black flying dragon on his chest.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

He had a very large erection. “I must tell you a secret about dragon mating,” Drago said, and I nodded, not taking my eyes off his erection, fascinated by how hard it was. “We too mark our mates, in a similar way to how a wolf would, but we impregnate our venom. It is painful, though not that painful; however, it leaves a mark of my scales. It is a symbol of belonging. I hope that doesn't bother you...” “I have a crescent moon on my neck; I belong to a wolf. That's the least of it,” I said to Drago and smiled. “You will have my mark always; that's much more pleasing.”

I tried to compose myself before looking in his direction again. I looked back at him to already being watched by me intensely. His eyes were the most beautiful contrast I have ever seen, ocean blue with green specks at the surface. I shamelessly drooled over him, until I realized I was too late. I lowered my gaze to his chest only to witness a tattoo, a tattoo of a dragon forging from the fire; on the other side just where the heart resides, written Selene in bold capital letters. I looked away, feeling a pang jealousy from a complete stranger, all the wolves were bowing in front of us, not before us, but...

The kind of room that had no purpose and therefore no softness. Draco was on the far side of it. I registered him in pieces, the way you registered things when your body was already reacting before your mind had fully caught up. The shirt on the floor somewhere behind him. The shirtless back turned toward me broad and defined and covered, across the left shoulder and down the spine, with a tattoo that was not decorative. A dragon, rendered in black ink so detailed and so large that for a moment I simply looked at it the scales, the wingspan, the specific quality of something that had been inked not as art but as record. A testimony. This happened to me and I survived it and here is the mark

Damn this man. "You need more than that, okay where was I?," He cleared his throat, like he was about to unravel some big secret. She leaned in closer. Her eyes shimmering, okay, what was with women and gossip? "The tattoo in his nape represents the dragon club. It's a really dangerous club involving violence." She seemed interested, which was weird, because he never thought that Nicole Hart would want to get herself involved in all his family shit. He breathed in, stroking his hands.

It was a black dragon with wings, surrounded by black roses. “You have a weird tattoo,” I commented out of the blue. He lowered his gaze to his forearm. “All members of the Anderson Mafia have this kind of tattoo. It serves as our identification.” I fell silent, staring at it intently. For some unknown reason, that symbol is familiar to me. I tried to dig into my memory to recall where I’d seen that tattoo before, but it only caused my head to ache, prompting me to rub my temples. Cole quickly attended to me.