Ethan Klein Tattoo Novels & Stories

Then I saw him. He was kneeling on the floor, his back to me, amidst a sea of engrossed children. Not the imposing titan in a tailored suit, but a man in dark, simple trousers and a soft-looking charcoal sweater, sleeves pushed up his forearms. Ethan. His dark head was bent low, his attention wholly absorbed by the small figure beside him. Aino.

"You've been working since sunrise." "When the work is for this home, it doesn't feel like labor," Ethan answered smoothly, his voice low as aged bourbon. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, polished wooden figurine, holding it out in his broad, calloused palm. It was a hand-carved miniature lighthouse, smoothed to perfection and polished with beeswax. "I carved this last night," Ethan said, his amber eyes lingering on my face. "For Kai." Before I could answer, a bright burst of laughter echoed from the conservatory path. Kai came running out onto the sunlit deck, his small boots pattering rhythmically against the timber.

On my knees in front of him, waiting to serve him. Ethan finished stripping, revealing the body I'd been fantasizing about. He was massive, all hard muscle and battle scars, tattoos covering his arms and chest. A warrior's body. And his cock. Jesus Christ, his cock was huge. Thick and long and already leaking from the tip. There was no way that was fitting inside me. "Eyes up here," Ethan commanded, and I dragged my gaze from his cock to his face. "When I'm about to put my cock in your mouth, you look at me. Understand?"

It was rather abrupt to come today. Meanwhile, seated in the backseat of the parked Cayenne outside SereneCare Hospital, Ethan gazed at the blue tattoo on his hand and inquired, "George, do you think I look intimidating?" To conceal the tattoo, Ethan always wore long sleeves, ensuring it remained hidden from view. "Not at all. Ms. Jent doesn't know you yet. Once you meet and hang out, she'll get you. You seem serious. But with someone like Ms. Jent, who's nice, you can smile more. She's a girl, after all."

I said, and the crowd turned to Ethan immediately. “Yeah, it's different.” “Damn, it's really not them.” “Who the hell did this?” Ethan stepped out of the crowd and walked towards me. He took off his shirt, leaving him shirtless. He wrapped his shirt around my waist to cover my torn dress. The student shouted and snapped several pictures of him. But he didn't care. He stepped in front of me, covering me from the crowd. “And for those of you that watched the videos, did you see anything like this on the man?” He asked and lowered his trousers. I stared down and saw a tattoo on him. I stared at it very well and saw that it was a pretty lilac flower, a symbol of my name. The students shouted in

I lifted up on my knees and proceeded to straddle him. Ethan’s eyes popped open wide. I sat up and ran a finger very slowly over his naked chest tracing one of his tattoos. This one intrigued me since I saw it. It was a motorcycle with wings. Under the motorcycle was a ribbon with a birth and death date. And his father’s name. I remember when he told me the story. How he, his sister and all the guys at the club that knew Raider got one. And how Merigold had drawn it and Tank did the work. But back to Ethan. “ Well, I like silly Ethan.” I ran my nail over his nipple. I watched it tighten and Ethan sucked in a breath. I held my smirk. I leaned down so my chest was pressed firmly against. I li

“No walls meant to keep people out. Just a place to gather.” I squeeze his hand. “I like that.” He hesitates, then reaches into his pocket. My heart jumps. It’s not a ring—not exactly. It’s a carved band of dark wood, etched with subtle symbols that shimmer faintly when he turns it in the light. Wolf. Land. Bond. “I didn’t know how humans do this,” he admits. “So I made it our way.” Emotion crashes through me, fierce and overwhelming. “Ethan—” “I’m not asking for forever because destiny says so,” he says steadily. “I’m asking because I want to wake up beside you when things are boring. When we’re tired. When the hardest fight is deciding who gets the last cup of non-poisonous tea.”

Tall as hell, those tattoos snaking up his arms and disappearing under his tight black shirt, broad shoulders that made my stomach tighten every single time. He had always been my dirty little secret, the one I fantasized about late at night when Ryan was asleep beside me. Forbidden. Wrong. But god, the pull was real. I wandered toward the back fence to get some air, away from the crowd. The grass felt soft under my sandals. Before I knew it, Ethan was right there, leaning against the wooden posts with that lazy smirk of his. His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense, like he could see straight through the thin summer dress I wore.

The women who were passing that examination were expelled from the meeting room. Soon, only four females were left. "Show me your hand," Ethan spoke loudly. The girl was sweating badly as she refused to show her hand. "I said, show me." Ethan shouted, but she did not open her arms. She had folded them against her chest. "Miss. Rena, will you help me?" Ethan asked as Rena forcefully separated her arms. Ethan held her hand and indeed, there was a tattoo of Bird on it. "Yes, sir," Ethan nodded to Kyle. Kyle gestured to him to take her with him.

The pain and pleasure that come together make my senses muddle, and the wetness in between my thighs increases. I feel myself floating, and I open my eyes to see myself in Ethan's arms before he drops me on the bed. He gracefully unbuttons his long sleeve,revealing a crown tattoo on his chest, and his well-proportioned build comes into view. His pecs and washboard abs are a sight to behold. My mouth hangs open in shock when he takes down his trousers, and the huge tenth in his briefs makes me have a moment to rethink.