Male Collar Bone Tattoos Novels & Stories

one of them says, reaching for him. I don’t let go immediately. Something feels off. Then they start pulling him away from me, carefully, and as they do, his jersey shifts slightly. Then I see a faint glow on his collarbone, it's gold... it's clearly a mate mark responding. I freeze for a second, my grip loosening without me realizing it. That’s not right. Mate marks don’t glow like that. They’re supposed to be red. Unless— My chest tightens slightly as I stare at it.

The love of my life. Silvy The day after Goof proposed and claimed me he took me to Tank's tattoo shop to get my mark. Was I nervous? Hell yes. I was nervous about the entire process. Tank, bless the gentle giant, let me bring Ant in with us. Ant was a hit at the shop. I was a little worried the receptionist might not give him back. It took Tank forty five minutes to finish the work on my shoulder. According to Goof that is the least sexy part of my body. Did it burn? Sure. But not as bad as I thought it would be. I wanted to see what it looked like. Tank stood me in front of his mirror. It was amazing. It looked my the Renegades emblem with a motorcycle driving through the middle of it. A

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

Amelia, still puzzled, asked, “Is something so funny?” Carl didn’t move to fix the collar she had unbuttoned. He simply remained bent slightly forward, his collarbones clearly visible. There appeared to be something on them, maybe a tattoo—it was red, standing out beautifully against his pale skin. Amelia couldn’t make it out clearly but could tell it was striking. “You’re about to make Director Luke choke on his own heart,” Carl said, his voice still laced with amusement. It was hard not to like the way he spoke, even though it was edged with a certain charm.

We were far from out of the woods, the edge still miles away, but for the first time we were able to relax a little. “What?” he asked as he stopped in front of me. Slowly I trailed my eyes up his body, taking in each piece of ink that covered his skin. The rose to signify his family sat right over his heart. A crow, a skull, and other shapes folded in sharp lines and splashes of red and black from his shoulder down to his wrist. A lion sat on his right pec—a nod to his persona. Each muscle was pronounced, and when I finally reached his gaze, a shiver rolled through me. I blew out a breath and fanned myself.

Shit! Maybe deciding to pull his shirt was a bad idea. My eyes landed on his tattoo and I was finally able to see what was drawn there. “Wow.” I mouthed, my fingers slowly grazing on his tattoo. I couldn't help but touch it. It was a picture of a snarling wolf head, at one side of his chest. Just above his right nipple. I never knew Malcolm had sexy and inviting nipples. “Noelle focus.” I scolded myself, removing my hand from his chest.

He had darkly tanned skin, and startling, vivid green eyes. The collar of his tee shirt – it was grey, with "Black River Wildlife Preserve" printed on the front above a logo of a wavery black line meant to indicate a river, and the silhouette of a howling wolf – was loose enough to show a lusty crop of chest hair rising to the base of his neck. He also wore navy-blue sweats, and his muscular thighs would have done credit to a marathon runner.

As he twisted, the collar of his grimy jacket tugged, and the streetlight caught the skin of his neck. My breath hitched. There, just above his wrist, was a mark. A crude, spiraling pattern, like a barbed-wire vine, etched into the skin. It wasn’t a tattoo. It looked burned, branded. I’d seen that exact pattern. Not on him, but drawn on Mara’s wrist earlier.

"They have a tendency to elope." Evie smiled as she ducked her head. “We will.” Tank said as Ink nodded accepting the box. He removed the lid and they looked at the collar inside. There was a semicircular solid piece of silver that was about a half inch around with a two key lock in the middle. The rest of the collar was three braided fine silver chains. On the chains were two small golden hearts that were free to move about. There were two silver chains that could be attached to the back. They would hang to just above her bra line, peeking out from beneath her hair. Each had a golden letter on the end. An I and a T.

Colin broke his concentration on my breasts and laughed, “I may have gotten a tribal tattoo when I turned 18, on a whim,” he explained. It was a surprisingly well done half sleeve, not a cliche 90’s tribal style but with intricate mandala designs. It looked like something I would have designed. “I like it,” I told him.