Novel & Cerita Male Classy Ring Tattoos

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.

Obviously, Emmy told Jasper right away but that was it. Currently, I was sitting on a seat in the private air plane. I kept admiring the ring he had given me. Platinum metal had a singular black one karat circle cut diamond. The band had a twisting pattern around it. The black diamond, I learned later represents the Black Moon name. Alec’s great great grandpa mined this stone and designed this entire ring. The metal had to get replaced due to the wear over the years but they kept the design and the stone. “Eath to Kristen!” Alec waved his hand between my eyes and the ring.

He’s more than likely mated already to one of those two stunningly beautiful female Lycans that are here with him. Abruptly, I am pulled out of my inner dialogue by Hannah’s very real voice. “Do not freak out,” she whispers to me. “Huh?” I look up to see two exquisite beings strolling through the class towards a desk on the other side of the room. The first Lycan is Mr Tattoos, who has even more tattoos than I had been able to see from the back this morning; I notice that both of his hands that are sticking out from his leather jacket are covered in intricate designs, and that he has one snaking up and around the front of his neck which stops at his chiselled jaw. He glances at me with a cro

He told Damian. He hung up. "The tattoo," I whispered. Lucian looked at me, his eyes tormented. "Silas wore a ring. On his right hand. I saw it when he kicked you." "A ring?" "A signet ring. With the fractal etched into the face." I frowned. "But Damian has the tattoo. Silas has a ring. It’s a family symbol?"

He didn't bother with a shirt for himself, just sweatpants and a towel around his shoulders as he ran his fingers through his damp hair. Luciano lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other stretched across the sheets. I turned toward him and slowly reached for his hand, the one that still wore all those heavy silver rings. I ran my fingers over the ridges of them, tracing the edge of the one on his middle fingerz His fingers curled slightly around mine but didn't stop me. I moved from his rings to his skin. His tattoos were mostly black ink, bold but smooth beneath my fingertips, symbols and names and fragments of languages I didn't speak but still somehow understood. I traced

Ruthless but refined. Did I mention the tattoos? They snake up around his throat, just barely visible under his collar. I spot more on his hands, ink etched along strong fingers and knuckles, ending in a gold pinky ring that blinds me when the sun hits it. Big. Gaudy. Expensive. Like everything about him. Holy Italian.

Nico comments as the jeweler walks over with black velvet tray containing three rings. I pick up the thinner rose gold band. It’s simple but it’s the engraving on the inside that catches my attention The Italian Trinity NVA. Then I pick up the two titanium bands with a carbon fiber strip. They too have the same engraving. “Anthony, is thoughtful. He might make us both look bad. Although, I think this could inspire our tattoos” I joke, making Nico chuckle deeply. “I think he might make me look worse than you.” Nico jokes back and we both laugh. Maybe it won’t be so bad being the wife of two sexy Dons.

My uncles Craig and Montero are covered in all kinds of scars, and I’ve watched Aunt Natalya stitch up some of the gnarliest of injuries, so I’m used to seeing these sorts of things. The next man is large. Huge like a mountain and wide like a fucking bulldozer. Tattoos crawl up the side of his neck, his arms, all the way down to his knuckles sporting fat gold rings. I can tell in an instant his jewelry isn’t a fashion statement. These rings are meant to hurt. Instead of brass knuckles, they’d be a perfect substitute.

With a solid blink, I jerk myself from the blue sea and absorb the rest of him. He's wearing a white, button-down shirt with the cuffs hanging loose. The top three buttons at his neck are undone displaying a bit of his chest and flawless skin. The material of the shirt stretches over his heavily muscled biceps and forearms and across his equally defined torso. He untangles his fingers from my hair and rests his hand beside my hip. His other hand is on his knee. His fingers are long and powerful. A heavy gold ring with a large black stone is on the ring finger of his right hand. A simple gold band circles his thumb. His left hand is bare. I've never been fond of men wearing jewelry, but on Mo

With a solid blink, I jerk myself from the blue sea and absorb the rest of him. He’s wearing a white, button-down shirt with the cuffs hanging loose. The top three buttons at his neck are undone displaying a bit of his chest and flawless skin. The material of the shirt stretches over his heavily muscled biceps and forearms and across his equally defined torso. He untangles his fingers from my hair and rests his hand beside my hip. His other hand is on his knee. His fingers are long and powerful. A heavy gold ring with a large black stone is on the ring finger of his right hand. A simple gold band circles his thumb. His left hand is bare. I’ve never been fond of men wearing jewelry, but on Mo