Klaus Mikaelson Shirtless Novels & Stories

"They fucking love my massive titties more than anything. Oh gosh... fuck it." Mikayla again unzipped her hoodie all the way down. The boys sat up in their seats again, thinking she was going to put her shirt back on and put an end to their fun. Instead, she allowed the hoodie to slip off her shoulders before reaching behind her back, unclipping her bra, and removing it completely. The boys' eyes widened at the sight of them. They again looked around the theater to make sure nobody was paying attention to them. Mikayla dropped her bra into Max's lap, put her hoodie back on and zipped it up just enough so her big tits were still out in the open.

Colorful tattoo peeked from the sleeves of his palm tree printed shirt. The rest of Klaus’ men were on guard, scattered around the kitchen. Markus, Devin, and Evan stood in the archway separating the kitchen and living room, taking in the sight before them. Kai stepped forward, hiding me behind his body. I couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders were tense. “Get out of my property before I kill you!” Klaus growled, the veins in his neck pulsing with uncontrollable anger. Klaus has always been playful when he’s around me, cool and relaxed. This version of him, commanding danger, made fear crawl under my skin.

About thirty minutes later, we were finally dressed and ready. Well… Mostly dressed. Klaus was wearing black sweatpants and a fitted shirt that showed every muscle in his body. Meanwhile, I wore one of his oversized white shirts with tiny black shorts underneath. The shirt hung off one shoulder, making me feel both shy and weirdly pretty. I turned toward him nervously. “What do you think?” Klaus stopped fixing his watch and slowly looked up at me. And the look on his face nearly killed me. His eyes dragged slowly over my body before settling on my face again.

He sniffed and stood up and Klaus followed suit. Klaus' eyes followed his every movement, watching him carefully fold the photograph of the two most important people to him and stash it in his back pocket. Klaus watched him untie the red tie that was on his neck and flung it across the room. And his black shirt followed suit. He upper body now bare revealing his well toned muscles and biceps. " Hit me " Klaus raised his thick black brows in confusion . For Rivero to repeat again .

I do not know how long I played. But suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. A heavy, burning pressure prickled the air right behind me. My fingers faltered. The last chord died out. I turned my head. Killian was standing in the doorway. He was entirely shirtless. He wore only dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips. In the dim moonlight, he looked massive. Heavy slabs of thick muscle layered his chest and shoulders, pulling his skin taut. Violent silver scars wrapped around his ribs and torso. His chest was heaving slightly, his breathing harsh and heavy in the quiet room.

Pigtail, seeing Anika, her eyes brightened with recognition, the other two men in the room being Klaus's guards. "Honey, go back to bed, I'll be there in a bit" Klaus said, he had changed at some point, she was pretty sure she had seen him leave the room in his pajama pants, but now, he was wearing a white shirt with no tie and pants. He didn't seem too tense in his dress shirt, with his hands in his pockets, but his eyes bored into Anika's, and she nodded. "I'm sorry" she whispered before pulling the door shut, feeling her face flush.

Aleksander sent a photo. God. I knew I shouldn’t click it. My brain screamed don’t, but my thumb didn’t listen. The screen flashed to life—and just like that, my entire nervous system short-circuited. He was shirtless. Not the casual I just woke up kind of shirtless, no—this was calculated. The kind of picture men send when they know exactly what they’re doing. His body was all lean muscle and golden tone, the kind that made you forget how to breathe. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a sculpted chest dusted with just enough hair to look maddeningly real. A chain rested against his collarbone, glinting under the soft light. His hair was tousled, damp like he’d just stepped out of th

Grant. Wearing nothing but compression shorts and a cocky-ass grin. Shirtless. Chest gleaming with sweat. Arms flexed. Hair damp and messy. He looked like a fucking ad. Like someone dropped a Calvin Klein model in the middle of our locker room. “What the hell do you want?” Malik snapped, stepping in front of me. “I came to say hi,” Mason said casually. “Didn’t get to catch up after the game.” “We’re not in the mood,” Liam growled.

In this moment, that was all I really cared about. While Kairos worked to on getting me naked, Max came closer. Along the way, he removed his own shirt and then kicked off his shorts so that he was fully naked by the time he reached us. Not to be outdone, Kairos tugged off his black tank and shoved down his shorts. So much hot muscled flesh was on display, I had no idea where to put my eyes first. They must have been wide as saucers, trying to take in everything.

Drake said quietly. Miguel paused, then turned his head toward him with a sly look. Without a word, he peeled the shirt off again, standing there shirtless. The morning sun casting soft shadows over the lean lines of his torso. "Is it?" Miguel asked, casually tossing the shirt aside.