Intimate Ink Novels & Stories

And damn she smelled so fucking nice. My heart hammered in my chest when I remembered how my lips roamed over her neck and I was so glad, I got the chance to bite her. My desire got more rejuvenated when she released those soft low sounds from her lips, especially when she moaned my name. Like it was the best sound ever. I've never been this intimate with a woman before, probably because i was mostly busy with work and school my whole life. So I really got irked when my phone rang. Even though the call was a bit relevant, it still ruined the moment. I was disappointed when he hung up because she had covered herself completely.

“That's it. I'm helping.” Without waiting for a reply—not that she would have listened this time—Emily crouched down again, and the moment her hand touched his, she squirmed . She squirmed! She hadn't realized until now that they'd both never had any physical contact. And now that they did, it sent a jolt through her system . Rex definitely noticed. The faint way he raised his eyebrows was a clear indication that her squirm was too obvious! The awkward silence that followed only made Emily’s discomfort unmistakable. She cleared her throat, her face reddening in embarrassment as she began to search through the kit, pulling out the necessary items: a few antiseptic wipes, an antibiotic ointmen

After listening to him, Sanam immediately opened her eyes and gazed at him who was standing shirtless with naughtiness in his eyes. "So I was thinking why we don’t gift him a sister on his next birthday." With an extreme burning feeling in his eyes, he hovered over her. "And you can do this for your son, aren't you?" Now he finished the remaining little bit of distance between her and put his lips on her neck. Sanam has to close her eyes on feeling his advancing moves and the extremeness of intimacy. She knew today he will not give ear to her resistance. So after trying many failed attempts she let herself subjugate to him.

When I didn't heard anything from him , I slowly looked u p and saw him already looking a t m e intensely. W e both kept looking a t each other intensily. Neither o f u s was even blinking our eyes. I gulped when I saw him leaning closer t o m e. I also closed m y eyes and shifted more towards him. I visibly shivered when h e sensually dragged his hand from m y naked waist t o all over m y calves and ribs and finally settle them over the nape o f m y neck. H e then gently pulled m e closer t o him and then stop after inching his lips dangerously closer t o mine.

I said. "Truth is a luxury, Kaima," Smith said, his voice turning cold. "And the Aethel-Group is out of the luxury business. We are in the 'Survival Business.' The Earth outside this Preserve is a scorched rock. This is all that's left. Now, be a good girl and hand over that bottle. It’s corporate property." --- ### The Weight of the Ink I looked at the bottle. The "Unlimited Ink" wasn't liquid. It was a swirling vortex of every color I had ever seen—and some I hadn't. It felt heavy, like it held the weight of a billion possible stories.

Barely perceptible in the morning light. "The old ink formula is iron salts and oak gall. When it dries, it leaves a brownish residue under the fingernails. It cannot be washed away. Marcus wrote the Code with this ink for two hundred years. His fingers are forever stained brown." He raised his eyes. His silver-grey pupils held a faint, pale glimmer. "That is your next lesson. His habits. His flaws. Every detail may one day become your blade." Cain said nothing. His hand moved from his sword hilt. He reached over and took the cold coffee from Luna's hand.

Random letters typed themselves across my tits in real time, the smudged ink ribbon dragging black streaks over pale flesh, marking my nipples, my cleavage, my collarbone with gibberish that looked like ecstatic code. He fucked me harder. Faster. The mechanical clacking grew frantic matching the wet slap of his balls against my ass, the obscene squelch of my cunt clenching on nothing. Ink smeared everywhere: across my breasts, dripping down my sides, staining the desk. My body became the page.

I chose the tattoo. But I didn’t choose him. He wasn’t listed on the website. No socials. No portfolio. Just a name: Shane. The studio was called INK SEDUCTION, a half piercing parlour, half erotic dungeon disguised as a reputable ink shop. And Shane? He was the reason people came back begging to be marked again. The First Look He had a body that should’ve been behind glass arms inked with wolves and roses, hands veined and calloused, rings on two thick fingers. He wore black gloves like sin and smelled like ink, sweat, and intentions.

The bell above the tattoo shop door jingled as I pushed it open, my heart hammering against my ribs. I’d been thinking about this for months — finally getting ink on my breasts, something delicate and feminine to reclaim my body after a shitty breakup. The shop was called Ink & Skin, tucked into a quiet corner of the city with blacked-out windows and neon signs that hummed faintly. It was late afternoon, and the place was empty except for the artist behind the counter.

It was a deep, shimmering indigo, pulsing slightly with the ambient noise of the prison the clink of keys, the hum of the ventilation. ​"It will only record the truth, Julian," I warned. "The Shield-Ink reacts to the sub-frequencies of the human heart. If you lie, the ink will smudge. If you speak from the soul, the letters will hold." ​ ​Julian reached out, his trembling fingers hovering over the paper. He didn't touch it. He began to speak, his voice a low, melodic hum that seemed to resonate with the very stone of the room.