Pride And Prejudice Tattoo Novels & Stories

he purred sexily. " Does it turn you on when you tease me? Shawn?" I stressed his name trying to piss him off by saying so. " If you keep doing this kind of stuff, I would think that you really like me. Wouldn't I?" I added stepping on his pride. " You are being too old-fashioned using the words like and love. I guess it's true that poor people's only redemption in life is falling in love." He stated calmly while smirking. " That's not what I meant..."

“The Henchmen have been a big part of your life. As long as you stay committed to the Valkyrie, I don’t have a problem with it.” He looked shocked. “Babe, choice is a big thing around here. I don’t expect people to hide their past, and we’re all accepting of what people have done to get to where they are. I especially don’t make everyone get exactly the same tattoo. If you look around, only Karma and Fishnet have exactly the same tattoo as I do, and that was because they wanted to do it. Everyone else’s is considerably smaller.” “You really do run a unique outfit here, don’t you, my Duchess,” he smiled.

Sofia could only imagine the pain he must have endured to get such a significant tattoo in that location. Overwhelmed by emotions, she looked up at Leonardo's face. He was watching her intently, biting his lip, and holding his breath, anxiously awaiting her reaction. With her heart pounding, she returned her gaze to the tattoo, tracing her finger gently over the beautifully curved letters of her name. The first 'S' was artfully curved at the bottom, forming a heart, while the last 'A' extended into the shape of a heartbeat. The design was exquisite, and Sofia couldn't help but feel deeply touched by this display of affection.

A tattoo in myths and legends, and it was being shown right in front of the group. Alphas are naturally conservative about their tattoos. Usually only their mate would see it. And for some reason, Juliette wanted to conceal it from everyone's view, she wanted it to be for her eyes only. But she was strong; she just sat patiently. He stood squarely in front of everyone, beckoning their eyes to his. Juliette let her eyes wander over his ripped abdominal muscles, and tan skin. And he was looking at her. Silver eyes, enchanting as ever. She swallowed an lowered her gaze to the floor.

He gestures for me to look down, and as my gaze shifts, I gasp. He is shirtless now, and on his chest, a tattoo is engraved. A butterfly with a crown above it is inked, symbolizing me and Hope. Just below this thoughtful artwork, in elegant cursive script, is the phrase "My life." As he approaches me, I fix my eyes on his tattoo, tears of joy welling up in my eyes. I never thought that on the first night after marriage, Luke would give me such a precious gift. He knows my taste in gifts; expensive jewellery doesn’t mean much to me. But this, this is priceless.

Because if I looked—if I saw—I’d fall harder than I could ever afford to. But right now? I’m looking. And I fucking hate that I can’t look away. His body is a masterpiece of power. Carved abs. Broad shoulders. Veins on his arms like he’s always halfway to bursting. And his chest—God help me—his chest glistens like he walked out of some ad for sin itself. And then— Then I see it. That fucking tattoo. A lion’s head, snarling right in the center of his chest. Its mouth open like it’s about to roar. Eagle wings stretch from both sides, curling around his collarbones like a crown of chaos.

Me staring at a naked guy for the second time in my damn life. My breath caught in my throat, trapped. I was trapped. My eyes completely rebelled against my brain's frantic commands to look the fuck away. Instead, they traced the dark, heavy ink of a tattoo etched across his upper shoulder blades. Three words, bold and unyielding: "Built Through Pain." The script wasn't flashy or arrogant. It felt heavy. It looked like a scar turned into art—a quiet testament to something survival-driven. A strange, unbidden ache blossomed in my chest just looking at it.

Running down his spine was a tattoo of a dagger, flanked by two cobras coiled around its blade, each poised to strike the other. The crossguard was shaped into a Trinacria—its eyes hollow and haunting, its hair a wild tangle of serpents. On its three bent legs were the words etched in a stark, gothic script: Famiglia, Orgoglioso, Patria. The ink stretched over the planes of his back like a warning—Family, Pride and Homeland. He stood up, and my suspicions were confirmed—completely naked, without a hint of shame. He slept next to me completely naked—fucking naked. But before I could even start to argue or throw some biting comment his way, something else pulled my focus—his ass.

My chest started to hurt, confusing me until I glanced down and saw the intricate filigree tattoo that weaved itself across the top of my breasts, down both of my arms, and stopping at my elbows. Chuckling Conri traced the design with his index finger and said, “Proof that you are my true queen.” A flood of confidence filled me and I grinned at the newfound strength that encompassed me internally. “I have a queen's mark, pretty cool,” I giggled. Running his hand through his hair Conri nodded. “It is Jade, it means that you are born of royal blood. Your real mom must have been a royal and an important one because your pattern is very unique,” he said firmly as he studied the lovely tattoo. I

He nodded, totally understanding what I was thinking through our connection. As he stood up, I could not help but let my eyes wander over him, pausing at his chiseled abs and then down to his pelvis. Right there in the middle was a thick, four-inch tattoo of an infinity symbol. Mated wolves have this thing where they let anyone who catches a glimpse of their skin below the waist know they have a mate. This tattoo meant a lot. A lump formed in my throat as my eyes began to water. How long had he been dealing with this?