Klaus Mikaelson Shirtless Novels & Stories

They bowed their heads in reverence and Klaus unlocked his hands and raised it to tap each man on his bald head, before he continued to walk into the dark room. The doors were closed behind him, and he was left in the dark room, save for the fire torches lit at every corner of the cubic room. The man sat on the ground, shirtless and as ragged and dirty as the dirt on the floor. He remained unbathed, strands of hair could be seen growing on his previously bald head - signs of how unkept he had been in the past weeks. He sat shirtless, on nothing but shorts that had previoulsy dined with him in all splendour and glory, in the same way, it had been reduced to the dust of the earth along with hi

then took off his shirt. “Noooo” I thrashed and wiggled under him strongly. I pulled my hands hard but I couldn’t free myself. He got off me and unzipped his pants, taking it off and standing in his boxer shorts: “I’m dying to bury it deep inside you” I cried more and screamed: “NO, Klaus, STOP”

Micah said, stepping away from her clutch, "but I will never forget what you did, Melania. To me and especially to Mason." Melania laughed. "I never swayed Mason to do anything he didn't want to. It's not my fault he wanted to please my every whim. Unlike someone here. I love this shirt on you, by the way." Instantly regretting wearing a shirt, Micah stripped and ripped it into pieces. A second later, it reappeared on his body. Melania laughed. "Deep down in that gorgeous body of yours is the man who fell in love with me," Melania said, trailing a manicured nail down his chest. "I just have to find him."

He reminds me. I open my mouth to reply but the words die in my throat as he starts to unbutton his shirt. He stands to his feet as he shrugs it off. Miles of bronzed, chiselled skin is exposed to me. I watch, transfixed as his arms flex as he stretches them above his head. He kicks off his shoes and socks. His hands move to his belt as he unravels it and tugs off his slacks. Black Calvin Klein. My eyes widen, and my mouth dries as I take in his nearly naked body. My eyes voluntarily trace the swirls of his tattoos as they wind around his body. The creeping from his shoulder to his neck looks like a seal.

- He said. Being that the shirt of his uniform still had the great emblem of his house in which it looked like a large and prominent alchemical symbol, in which it was only with shirts that it symbolized the great symbology of the Arabic language and nothing else covered it other than that Tsuki Miki was the only one completely naked. "I don't want." He tried to say, but was only met by demanding lips and a struggle between wills and dominance of tongues that fought inside their mouths. With the two fingers in his anus going in and out he was greeted with a mixture of heat and coolness.

Dawn shook her head. “Let’s start with the good news.” “We have actual clothes. I found two of your shorts in here. They probably got mixed in with mine,” Maxwell said. “But the only shirts we have are these.” He pulled out one extra-large T-shirt with a print that read: [I Put the ‘Max’ in Maximum Pleasure] “And this is yours,” Maxwell said, showing a small-sized shirt that read: [I Survived the Max Attack!]

Declan stood at the island, shirtless again, dumping protein powder into the blender like he owned the entire building. “Rule one.” I yelled over the noise “Shirt On, Now.” He turned the blender off and grinned that cocky, panty-melting smirk. “Rule two, you don’t get to walk around looking like that and then demand I cover up. Those shorts are illegal, Savage.” He shot back. “These are standard athletic wear, you Neanderthal.” I grabbed an apple from the ridiculous fruit basket the sponsor left and hurled it at his head. He caught it one handed, took a bite, and winked. Before I could launch something heavier, my phone started blowing up.

The door eased open, and Marcus stepped out. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs that clung to his powerful thighs and did absolutely nothing to hide the heavy, semi-hard outline of his cock. His hair was tousled from sleep, his broad chest and defined abs catching the low light. He looked dangerous. Masculine. Like pure temptation wrapped in muscle and sin. Our eyes met instantly.

Pushing the door open, her eyes met with a large, well-equipped gym. Klaus was on a treadmill, sweat dripping down his exposed tattooed chest. He was only wearing shorts, and he looked impossibly hot with his wet hair clinging to his face. A white towel hung over his broad shoulder, and his perfectly sculpted body screamed perfection. Morticia froze, taking in every detail of the demigod before her. Did he grow more handsome every day? It felt as if she were seeing him for the first time. She stood there as minutes passed, unnoticed since he had his earbuds in and was listening to music.

She had seen the closet and wanted to put her things in it. “Do this tomorrow. You must be tired, right?” Alexander’s voice sounded which startled her. She turned around to look at him, and that was when she realised he was shirtless and seemed to be on his way to take a shower. Lauren was stunned. She looked at the back of the shirtless man and gulped nervously. Her face had long turned red and his well-muscled chest flashed in her mind. Though she hadn't seen it well, his back and torso were just too—