Luffy Shirtless Novels & Stories

Why is he shirtless? >Shirtless Salvy He turned his head and smiled at me. “Sorry my angioletto, I did not have a shirt on my gym bag.” My heart and my ovary jumped. I have this strong urge to run my fingers to his chest and abs again. “D-did I say that out loud?” I cover my mouth with my hands. He nods and chuckles, he gets back to cooking and I shamelessly stare at his body. His back has several scars and some of it looked like they came from deep wounds. Is his life always in danger? He looks strong but what if someone tried to kill him again like last time.

I retort. He lets out a huff, glaring at me before gesturing towards himself. "Take off your shirt, and we'll settle it." I pop my gum, relishing a good challenge. Swiftly, I remove my V-neck, casting it onto the nearby mattress. His gaze sweeps over the black ink that envelops my chest, ribs, and abs. Nearly every inch of my fair skin showcases a mosaic of vivid skulls, crossbones, swords, tumultuous waves, and sailing vessels. The grayscale pirate imagery intertwines with vibrant sparrows and swallows. His eyes continue their descent, tracing the ink until they reach the hem of my black pants.

Hot liquid stained across his chest, dripping down the perfect white cotton. He looked down, calm as ever. “Relax.” “I just ruined your shirt—” “You didn’t.” He was already shrugging out of his blazer, unbuttoning his shirt like this was routine. My mouth went dry. He slipped the shirt off, and—holy shit. Muscle. Sharp lines. Tattoos curling across his chest and down his arms, dark ink on pale skin. I froze. Completely froze. He pulled a fresh shirt from the cabinet, casual, like stripping in front of me wasn’t ending my entire existence.

I think this damn shirt needs to go. I nodded in agreement. “That's my good girl,” he murmured and reached for the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head. He murmured his appreciation at my lace-clad breasts and went ahead to cup them and place a kiss on the cleavage. “You look better this way with no shirt on,” he said. “You’re not saying I should start walking around the pack and going about my daily business with no shirt on, right?” I whispered. “You can do anything you want, Malia. You can even walk around completely naked but that would mean that many of the men are going to lose their eyes because I’m going to gouge them out.”

Zaliver began to remove his shirt, pulling it over his head, and threw it on the ground. “What are you doing?” I gasped, watching as he unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants, pulling his zipper down. I looked away but looked back into his electric blue eyes. “Unlike werewolves, my clothes don’t shift back with me. I would be completely naked. Lucky you, huh.” He stopped moving and smiled charmingly at me.

Right a moment went by, he promptly arrived with his naked chest on display, he was… only in his boxers. I immediately eyed down because I was not used to this kind of heavy situations, I had no idea how to tackle everything happening at that moment. I grew up watching cartoons and RATED-13 movies, my parents were strict in this case. I had no idea how to cope up with this. I was loathed by our current awkward situation. Why is he shirtless?

Aurelia’s POV Lucien descended the stairs, and my breath hitched in my throat. He had discarded his tailored suit, wearing nothing but a pair of loose, black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He was entirely shirtless. His chest and broad shoulders were a canvas of dark, intricate ink—a sprawling, lethal masterpiece of geometric tribal patterns that wrapped around his left arm like armor, bleeding into a highly detailed shadow of a roaring lion across his pectoral, its jaws open right over his heart.

The Alpha looked shocked she had swatted his hand away, and she feared he’d hurt her in retaliation, but instead a smile stretched across his face, and he laughed. “You are a feisty one.” He smirked. “Don’t worry, I will not harm you. Nor will I allow anyone else here to hurt you. He stood up and took his shirt off. Lacee looked at him, confused at his actions, but then he tossed his shirt at her and told her to cover up.

I refused to say the term wet. “No.” He hooked his thumbs over his belt. His trousers fell low enough to display the sharp V of muscle that disappeared inside them. The wound he’d sustained last night was gone, likely healed with Seraphina’s power. Realizing I was staring at the delicious length of naked skin, I dragged my eyes to his face while waving at his discarded shirt. He only shrugged. “I rarely wear a shirt when I fight.” This time my eye roll was unfeigned. “Is that part of your strategy, then? To distract the enemies with your rippling muscles so you could kill them while they gape at your splendor?”

Mads and I always wear spaghetti strap shirts when we’re holding him, and Tyson just takes his own shirt off. It was hilarious when we first figured out that he likes skin so much, Tyson walking around the packhouse shirtless. Granted no one said anything to him about it, but I had the hardest time not whisking him away for sexy time. I mean, all his sexy muscles were on full display, how could I resist indulging in all that man? My man, my mate, is the epitome of sexiness and I still can’t get enough of him.