Novelas y relatos de Reader Tattoo

Raquel snickers, “I got a little distracted too, but I promise it’s there.” “If you say so,” I am trying my best to believe him, but it is hard as hell. Grabbing his shaft, he says, “Now, try your best to focus on the tattoo, Katrina." He pauses and winks at me. “If you can, of course.” "Of course, I am!" I yelp. “Real convincing, Katrina.” The voice teases. “Thanks,” I mumble back.

Call me if you want coffee or something," the girl said to us, before turning to the tattoo artist and leaving a small kiss on his chin. She then whispers something to the boy that I can't hear, before walking out the door. The boy has a hint of a smile as he watches the girl disappear through the door until he turns his attention to us. "Do you have an idea of what you want?" he asks. Oscar explains to him what he wants: to touch up the colors of the Ace of Spades tattoo on his arm, which is the only one they have in color - the others they have are in black and gray. Then, Raymond says he needs to touch up his tattoo, too and also wants to recreate the wolf tattoo he has on his neck.

The scent of her, a rich blend of florals and earthy spices, fills my head, making it harder to think, harder to focus on why I should be angry and not imagining what those breathless little gasps would sound like if I pinned her under me for a very different reason. My gaze drops to the exposed skin of her chest, and that’s when I see it, the ink peeking out just above her left breast. A tattoo. My grip on her throat loosens, curiosity replacing some of the irritation. Without thinking I reach down and grip the thin strap of her dress down and tug it. “Grayson.” Raelynn warns but I ignore her my brows furrowed as I read the words. ‘non urlo ma sto ancora annegando.’ I don't scream, but I'm

My friends and I were on the dance floor when I felt a pair of eyes watching me. My gaze locked with a young man who was a few years older than me. He had a tattoo on his hand that was a rose with a knife through the center of it. He was eyeing me up and down, in a way I’d noticed boys at school sometimes did. My friend, Kira Barinova, was there and I whispered to her, "Kira! Do you know who that man is?” Kira glanced over, and her eyes widened. “I don’t know about him personally. But I know that tattoo means that he’s a Ramono.”

#TattooArtistRomance #BikerLove #HiddenDesires #InterracialRomance #PassionateEncounter #LGBTQRomance #WinterPassion #TenderKiss #IrresistibleAttraction #SharedDesire Always read tags. So you can skip if the themes are not to your taste. *** As the last buzzing of the tattoo machine faded into silence after two hours, I hummed in satisfaction and wiped the last remnants of ink from my client's forearm. “All done,” I announced and stepped back to admire my handiwork with a proud smile. The design of a roaring lion now adorned his skin. The final art looked similar yet extraordinary to the reference picture. Not to be cocky, but definitely, I was the hardest tattoo artist in town.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Clara grinned. “Let me guess. The skull on your forearm? Midlife crisis or a dare?” He blinked, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Neither. It’s… personal.” “Personal,” she echoed, smirking. “Mysterious and broody. Got it.” Raul shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his sleeve as though it could hide the tattoos she’d already seen. “I’m not broody.” “Sure you’re not,” Her grin widened. “Next you’ll tell me you knit sweaters in your free time.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Oh, he’s going to pay, Ryan. Oh, he will pay,” she muttered. “Now, to the only tattoo that doesn’t have a physical scar behind it. You asked me to tell you everything, so here goes nothing,” Ryan said. Scarlet furrowed her brows. “Which one doesn’t have a scar?” “The pretty face on my chest,” Ryan replied, pointing at the tattoo of a girl placed directly over his heart. “Who is she?” Scarlet asked softly.

Her companion replied, equally impressed, "Yeah! Where did they find this model? He has a remarkable build and a gorgeous back!" At that, Annie's gaze landed on the red birthmark at my waist. She froze for a moment, then shook her head and scoffed. "He's okay. Compared to others, he's still far from perfect." With a sharp, mechanical buzz, Hudson started the machine. I was pinned firmly to the chair, paralyzed by terror. The sharp needles, without any ink, pressed directly into my back, performing a brutal dry-run "tattoo". My body convulsed in pain. This forbidden blood-tattoo technique was agonizing. The needles sliced through my skin at high speeds, using my own blood to trace the design.

He shoved her hard, and her head slammed against the cold wall. The moment he lit his cigar, the tattoo needle drove straight into her shoulder. In his icy eyes, Rita saw how ruined she looked. The roses spread across her skin in dense clusters, old cuts crossing over fresh ones. She had no idea how many times she'd endured this, knowing that even saying it hurt would make Seth despise her more. For a second, she thought she'd caught a tiny tremor in his expression.

The ink prepared is carbon-based, reacting naturally and smoothly on the body so that the tattooing procedure will be safe and sterile. "You're ready, aren't you?" asks Denis, the same question for every client before beginning the hours—long execution. "I won't waste time if I'm not ready." "Right, you must be very busy." Denis began to apply the triforce stencil paper to the skin on Gaby's back and flattened the stencil. Denis let it sit for a moment before completely removing it and revealing the triforce pattern that had adhered to Gaby's skin. Denis' focus was back on the line now.