Ethan Klein Tattoo Novels & Stories

Then he looked down at the kneeling man, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt. "You call that being good to her?" Ethan said coldly. "Hurting your true mate while she watched you create a child with another woman." He held up his right arm. In the moonlight, a line of ancient wolf runes ran from his shoulder to his wrist, like an unbreakable vow. "Do you know what this is?" Ethan demanded. Liam knew. It was the oldest mating vow of the wolves, a tattoo that, once marked, was bound to a wolf's life force.

“No idea, but he looks suspicious.” Then Ethan scanned through the crowd, and his eyes met with a familiar tattoo—the same one as the guy whose hand was caught on CCTV FOOTAGE at the airport handling a complimentary card to Annabelle on the day she arrived at the airport. “That tattoo on his wrist is familiar," Ethan muttered with confidence, and I fixed my suspicious gaze directly at the young priest. “Yes,” I declared sharply, my voice low and urgent. "Ethan, we need to trail him after the burial," I suggested immediately, playing along with him.

Adrian entered with Ethan in his arms, without turning on the main lights—only the warm LED strips around the mirror and ceiling, creating an intimate dimness. He carefully placed him on the heated marble floor. Ethan staggered, leaning against Adrian's chest. His large hands slid down to the hem of the oversized shirt that still covered him, slowly pulling it over his head. The fabric clung to his damp skin, revealing his marked body: purple hickeys on his neck, nipples, and the curve of his waist; red fingerprints on his thighs; his entrance still swollen, red, glistening with a mixture of both. Ethan tried to cover himself with his hands, embarrassed.

“Probably one of Jessica’s friends. The glares she was giving me said enough.” Determined not to let my toxic ex ruin our night, we force ourselves to get back into the rhythm of the club. Soon, a group of guys approaches our table. One of them, a tall, blonde guy with ripped arms covered in tattoos and a soft smile for a build like his slides next to me. “I’m Ethan,” he says. Okay, he also has a sexy voice. “Mind if I buy you a drink?” We end up talking. He's an artist and owns his own gallery so was telling me about some wonderful pieces he had come across. I also told him about some beautiful pieces in France too.

The king really wanted us to just… stand here all night? “We should patrol east first,” Ethan suggested, pointing down the length of the gate. “Circle through the crop lands, then loop back west.” As he stretched his arm to demonstrate, I couldn’t help but notice how his muscles tensed beneath the black fabric of his shirt. My eyes involuntarily trailed over to his other arm, which was decorated with inked tribal tattoos crawling from his wrist up his neck and vanishing beneath his shirt. “Sound good to you?” he asked, catching my gaze.

"But we both can still have a thing together... you know what I mean." "and be your lapdog... someone you sleep with, without any feelings attached." She hurled back at him. "Then go away, I have nothing to do with you then." He rejected her immediately and she finished with her words. Cara nodded her head in compliance to his rejection. She was about to take her leave when she stopped and turned back to him. Cara shifted aside and opened the upper part of her dress to reveal the tattoo on the side of her shoulder. "I've seen this from somewhere. Why is that logo there on your shoulder, who are you," Ethan questioned, expecting a response.

she exclaimed. Ethan chuckled lightly, "Taking a shower." He leisurely took off his clothes and looked at Isabella, who had her back turned. "It's not like you haven't seen it before." After an awkward pause of two seconds, she calmly turned around, her gaze fixed on Ethan's alluring physique. She finally noticed the small tattoo on his arm, which was still slightly red and covered with a layer of plastic wrap. Seeing the letters on it, she froze for a moment.

He just hoped Lucian would have dressed before he got back. Ethan winced at the ache in his neck and reached for it, gently rubbing. Had he slept with his neck in the wrong position? He sighed and finally looked at his reflection in the large mirror before him. Ethan knitted his brows at the sight of a strange dark pattern on his neck. A stain? Where did that come from? He reached up to try rubbing it off, but the mark remained. What the hell is it? The shape resembled a crystal—dark and weirdly intriguing. Ethan hated tattoos, so how could he have gotten one… overnight?

"Hey, Reynolds-" Suddenly, she froze. In front of her, was Ethan without a shirt on. His back was muscular, she noted as her mouth ran dry. But that wasn't what grabbed her attention. Drawn in dark ink and spread over a great part of Ethan's perfect back was a fearsome dragon tattoo. Part of the tattoo extended to his right arm but she never really noticed until now. "Huh?" He glanced behind him. When he saw her, he turned fully around. His front was just as sexy. Toned abs lined his midriff. If she could run her fingers across his study chest...

Next, he took the towel that was hanging on the hook at the back of the bathroom door, and with all three – he walked back into the room. Levi hesitantly took Ethan’s bottoms off as well, leaving him in his boxers. His heart was racing in his chest. He doesn’t know why he was so nervous doing this. This wasn’t a big deal. Ethan’s body still had fading bruises and cut marks on it. Through those bruises, Levi could see the tattoo on his thigh. That’s the only tattoo Ethan has, it is a dying flower. The tattoo was simple with no details. It was just an illustration of a dying flower. Levi tried not to stare at it and cleaned his body with a drenched towel.