His And Hers Tattoos Novels & Stories

She could never have imagined that the brushes in front of her had been intended for guests. When the fog faded from the mirror, she opened her eyes and swore at her reflection. She could see the red and purple marks of the hickeys he had given her on her chest and neck. Then she put a trembling hand at the base of her neck. A kind of black tattoo had taken shape there. Three parts stood out. At the top stands the head of a black wolf baring its fangs. Then, behind the head of the animal, a crescent moon was drawn. And finally, just under the wolf's mouth, two elegantly intertwined letters: M.B.

It was the same design as their matching tattoos, two hearts connected, one on top of the other. “What is this?” he asked as he glanced up and saw the emotion in her eyes.

she teased, biting her lip as she lifted the fabric of his shirt, until something between his tattoos, near his chest, caught her attention "Hey, wait... What is it?" "I told you." he smiled, as she ran her fingers over the new tattoo on his skin that was still no more than a few lines without shading or depth, but she could already understand what image it was forming "We, wolves, have the habit of immortalizing those we love in our skins. And it's been too long for me to do this with the person I love most." Hunter kissed her temple "So while I was having a long meeting with the cougars today, I ended up asking one of the pack's tattoo artists to do the first sketch for me. Don't worry, it

I realized how much I missed him, more than I had admitted to myself. “You really love tattoos,” I remarked as he casually removed his shirt. His back was covered in intricate black and gray tattoos—half a skull, half the face of a crying woman. His shoulders and arms were adorned with shading, letters, and flowers that had intertwined over time. I noticed the names of my parents, mine, and his pack etched on a cross. My dad would have had a fit if I had even a single tattoo.

And yet. "S-Stop this..." she panted. Zalakai's eyes narrowed as he looked her over again. Scars covered her body, but not as dark as the ones on her back. She had said nothing else about admitting her "Father" was the one to cause her harm. He couldn't recall anything about her parents. He knew she was an orphan at a young age, but nothing else from that. Tattoos covered her arms, her chest, her sternum and her neck. Tribal. Old traditional tattoos decorated her throat. Tribal lined her collarbone and sternum. Both of her arms were full of water colored art with what appeared to have proverbs quoted in spots. Her ribs were also inked. Her right side was with a Phoenix and the left side with

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

Malachi stands with me still straddling him as I run my hand through his brown hair. I let him put me down and stare at his body, taking my attention to the tattoo in the middle of his stomach that shows his birth year. I lead him to the bed, and he lays back, propping himself up with his elbows to keep his gaze on me. I spread his legs so I can fit my body between them and kneel, while my finger traces the tattoo that says 1994 on his torso. He shivers at my touch and he's already hard as a rock. I trail soft kisses along that same tattoo, thanking the Moon Goddess for creating such an exceptional creature. I unbuckle his pants and start to pull them down slowly while his heated gaze

She's always liked tall guys with dark hair and maybe a few tattoos. We laugh a lot as we discuss the men we've dated and how bad they were. She admits she's a virgin. i tell her I am, too. I even say it's a great thing in our world she doesn't seem convinced. We get to the tattoo shop, and we pick two tattoos, one we each will get on our wrist and one that we pick for our selfs. The one on our wrists is a tattoo of two wolf shadows howling at the moon, and the one I get that's just for me is a colorful dream catcher on my shoulder blade. I was done before Annalise, but it was ok because she had designed and drawn her own tattoo, and I got to watch them finish it. I was at a loss for words.

Her heart, she swore, could have just jumped out of her chest. “No!” she yelled, pushing his chest away and in the process, shoved a little of the collar of his maroon long-sleeved shirt. There she saw the tattoo, or a mark, peeking itself; two inverted crescent moons she knew were supposed to be for the use of witches only. Her mother created one for her father - her soulmate. Her only lover. If the man had one, then that meant... Could it be that he had a witch lover too? That was the ultimate question that swam in her mind.

“I’ve never counted. At least three.” Her hand glides over my chest, slow and grounding, drifting downward — anchoring me to the present, to being alive, to her. And for the first time in a long while, the demons hesitate. “Is this where the iron went through you?” she asks after a while, her voice barely louder than a breath. Her fingers trace the tattoo on my hip, slow and reverent, following the ink that hides the scar beneath it. Two laurel branches — a symbol for her name — curve like angel wings, delicate yet strong at the same time. And a tiny heart.