Ethel Cain Tattoos Novels & Stories

Blair Collins was a statuesque woman, not admiring her would have been astonishing. When Ethan turned around, Blair could see the tattoo on his back. It was a pair of black angel wings, drawn in thin, precise strokes. The design was dark, lines she could imagine on the man's personality, not his body. It was as if the tattoo was a warning sign to stay away, to be careful, not to trust. He finished his shower, stopped the powerful cascade of water falling over his body and left the shower. Ethan knew, well before, that he was being watched closely. He walked out of the bathroom and, even though he was exposed by the glass walls, decided not to make eye contact.

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

The shirt hung to mid-thigh, all my lady parts were covered. As I emerged from the bathroom, Ethan looked up from his phone, his gaze making me feel warm. "You look great in my shirt," he said. I murmured, glancing down, "It's just a shirt." Ethan chuckled and headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he returned, shirtless, his body illuminated by the moonlight. His tattoos were now visible, including the one I couldn’t see well that day. He had "Acta Non Verba" inked on his chest in elegant script. I fought the urge to stare openly.

She turned it on, letting the noise fill the quiet. In the reflection, she watched Ethan move behind her, picking up his phone. He scrolled through it, looking relaxed. He’d barely put it down since they got to the villa. That was fine by her—it gave her a little space to think. As she sat drying her hair, her eyes drifted to Ethan’s back. Tattoos stretched across his broad shoulders and down his muscled frame. They weren’t random. She didn’t know what they meant, but she was sure they mattered. Nothing about the Morrettis ever felt careless.

Ethan says, and for some odd reason, because he says he does not like it, I try to hold back my tears because of him. "I won’t," I say and start cleaning his wounds around his torso when I noticed something I think I should have seen the two times Ethan was shirtless in front of me. He has tattoos, and I know Islam is against tattoos, but his are beautiful. He has a few around his chest area. Maybe he recently got them. "Do you like them?" Ethan says noticing me admiring his tattoos "Yes, I do, and did it hurt when you got them?" "It did a little. Do you want one?"

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

But Cain didn't leave. For the next month, he stalked the estate like a man possessed. He appeared at the gates every day, bearing flowers and gifts. Sometimes it was an obscene number of white roses, sometimes priceless jewelry, sometimes a silly trinket I had once mentioned wanting but never received. He would stand there all day, just for a glimpse of me from afar. More shockingly, one day I saw he had gotten a tattoo: a sun, a moon, and stars. It was the family design I had sketched when I was pregnant.

"Your knee. Elias can treat it. Go to Alpha City. Surrender yourself. Give up Marcus's intelligence. Your name will be entered into the war criminal registry. But it does not warrant death. Whether you go or not. You decide." She did not look back. The door closed behind her. At the gates of the estate, Cain stood waiting. He wore no armor. The sleeves of his black civilian tunic were rolled up to his elbows. Exposing the old scar on his forearm. The one he had brought out of the forge. Not the burn on his right shoulder. The chilblain scar she had discovered on the back of his hand. He was waiting for her. She had walked the mountain paths through the entire night. Her boots were caked in m

Ethan asked, keeping a conversation going. “Callie and I want to get tattoos.” “Oh, really?” The surprise was clear. “What are you girls getting?” “She wants to get a flower for your mom and I’ll get the leg tattoo of the sting.” “Will that be your first tattoo? In memory of a near death experience?” “It will be my first. Near-death experiences only make a person stronger.” “So, how has that experience strengthened you?” Ethan asked as he grabbed my hand. Resting his hand on my thigh, I accepted it.

“If so, this should be an easy question.” “Fire away.” “What animal is tattooed on Cillian’s upper thighs?” I shot her a look, my eyes wide and shocked with her question. “Tattoo? Inner thighs?” Kinsley’s forehead creases, her eyebrows meet in confusion. “Yeap. What animal is it?” I watch Kayleigh tilt her head as she waits for Kinsley’s reply. Kinsley and Reagan glimpse at each other. I can tell that they’re communicating in their mind-links. Probably making theories of what my tattoo is.