Ivar The Boneless Tattoo Novels & Stories

Between them, in elegant black script, sat the tattoo: CW His striking glassy gray eyes darkened as he stared. “There’s another one,” I said, voice turning low and teasing. “On my hip bone. Want to see that too?” He nodded once. I stood, unzipped the prison trousers, and nudged them down just enough to reveal the smooth skin of my hip. The second tattoo read CROWE in the same beautiful lettering, right above the delicate line of my v-cut. “I can’t see it properly,” Ryker murmured, his voice dropping. “Come closer.”

I bit my lip hard as I stared at him. He turned his back to me, using his hands to comb his hair backward. His back... fuck. His back was even hotter. My eyes caught the ink on his shoulder blade, a dragon, bold and coiled like it belonged there. Its wings stretched slightly down his spine, detailed with sharp lines and dark shading. It was a tattoo that looked alive, like it was watching me through him. Just below it, a long scar trailed down his lower back and curved slightly toward his waist. It was faded but deep. I wondered what caused such a huge scar.

“So what you’re saying is I need to go to a shop and ask them to tattoo my ass. Great.” Knox’s eyes widen like saucers. “Tattoo your ass?” I nod, dead serious. “Want it to say Property of Little Birdie. Do. Not. Touch.” Glitch throws his head back and howls. “Holy fucking shit, you’re serious. You’re done. Hooked under her finger already.” “Got Ink here, he can do it,” King calls from the corner booth, and I spin to see the Cursed Kings still camped out like they own the lease.

utos niya, kalmado at matatag ang boses. Tumango ang tattoo artist, iniutos kay Xandro na hubarin ang kanyang damit. Hinubad ni Xandro ang itim na T-shirt, ibinunyag ang matipuno niyang pangangatawan. Nang sumindi ang makina, bumaon ang karayom sa kanyang balat, gumuguhit ng unang linya ng tinta sa kanyang likod. Ni hindi siya kumurap, hindi natitinag ang konsentrasyon.

The tattoos looked completely real and would fool anyone who didn't try to scrub them off. While the tattoos dried, I worked on the background for Ivy Blake. She was twenty-six years old, originally from Portland, with a history of bad relationships and dead end jobs. She'd been arrested twice for bar fights but never convicted. She had no family and no permanent address, the kind of person who drifted from town to town looking for work. I practiced Ivy's voice until it became natural. Slightly lower than my normal tone with a rougher edge, like someone who smoked and drank too much. I changed my posture too, slouching instead of standing straight, walking with more attitude and less purpose

Something just for her. She had chosen “Ink & Bone” after seeing the artist’s portfolio online. His work was intricate, almost artistic. What the website hadn’t shown was the man himself. Kai Rivera looked up from behind the counter as she entered. He was in his mid-thirties, tall and lean-muscled, with warm brown skin covered in beautiful tattoos that disappeared under the sleeves of his black t-shirt. His dark hair was tied back, and a light beard framed a strong jaw. When he smiled, it was slow and knowing.

The door to his room was half open and I could see him changing, he was muttering something while undoing his shirt and revealing my greatest desire, I stood there, my body leaned against the door frame as I cross my arm and look at his perfect muscled body, His back was facing me as he rummaged through the closet to find a t-shirt, my lips voluntarily curved as I imagine my lips on those babies, Without any layer not only I could see the perfect mysteries but now his tattoo was also fully exposed, I drool my eyes at the first tattoo he had on his shoulder blades; two wings, one broken, the other hand stitches to support it, there was a phrase written in cursive that said " Love cures Poison

They weren’t the kind that healed clean; some were pale, others a little darker, like they’d been through something quite rough. Then there were the tattoos. On the left side of his chest, close to where his heart should be, was a small name written in cursive — RIA. I couldn’t tell who she was, but it looked… personal. Right above his collarbone on the other side, another name, IVY. The writing was simple but bold, like something that carried weight. And on the top of his forehead arm, I noticed a single wing, slightly shaded, fading toward the edge half complete.

Eva settled her gaze on me, “Pain? If it is about the pain then he has got no reason. I have six tattoos on my body and when my tattooist planted them it was as painless as air sweeping across my skin. By the way what tattoo do you want?” I lowered my gaze on Brian’s photo in my hands. “Brian’s face?” he queried anxiously and when I shook my head, she said yet further. “That is very romantic of you and what part of your body do you intend to draw it ?” I blushed and etched my face with renowned smile before I mentioned, “My cleavage.” I shook my head in affirmation.

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.