Religious Forearm Tattoos For Guys Novels & Stories

He scoffed, taking off his trousers, and I looked away. A wave of dread washed over me, not sure what to expect next. Fear rose in my chest as I curled my fingers into the bedspread. By the time I looked back up, he was fully undressed, but he had his back facing me. I felt a drool escape my lip as my eyes traveled over his body—broad shoulders, his muscular back adorned with a large crest tattoo, identical to his brother's, except he was larger, taking up the entire top left side of his back. The tattoo depicted a shield with two swords crossed above it. Two lions stood on their hind legs, pulling the shield from both sides. Below the shield, a banner displays the name "Dontrell." The desig

Hell. He stood there, arm resting on the fridge door, sweat-damp shirt clinging to a chest that could not possibly be legal. Black curly hair, the kind that looked soft but wild, like he never tried to tame it. Pale skin that made the dark tattoos curling up his arm stand out even more. Ink trailing along his left forearm, disappearing under the sleeve of his black shirt. And he was, oh my God.....TALL. Tall enough that I had to tilt my chin up just to see his face properly.

Whilst Isla was not the prettiest of the bunch, due to the fated bond we shared, she did have the ability to make me stronger, if we were to mate and that is why I wanted her back. I bet it would be so easy to convince her to come back and I was counting on that. At this moment, I was heading to the shower to wash off as I just finished combat training. My muscles were sore, but they were bigger now, and I had also gotten a couple tattoos on my arms. One was a sleeve which consisted of a wolf, with blood spewing out of its mouth surrounded by a snake and some roses to signify death. It was a dark tattoo, but I think it helped me express myself a lot, so I liked it.

The suit's fabric embraced his form with precision, sculpting his frame in a way that conveyed strength and elegance in equal measure. The darkness of his attire was punctuated by a bold statement: a deep red shirt that accentuated his confidence. The top buttons of the shirt remained undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tattooed chest. The inked patterns danced across his skin, a testament to a hidden side of him that few were privy to witness. The intricate designs told stories of his past, a tapestry of experiences woven into the very fabric of his being.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stood glaring at him. She wanted to play it this way, did she? Fine. He dumped the clothes on the pallet and glared back. Removing his sage green Henly, he bared his broad, well-muscled chest and arms. He let her take in his clan's distinctive wolf tattoo covering his left shoulder. Runes of protection adorned his impressive torso, climbing up from the flat plains of his stomach to the slabs of hardened muscle covering his ribs. As he dropped the shirt to the ground, he saw the hint of her pink tongue come out to moisten her lips.

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying at all, my attention completely stolen by his bare chest. I couldn’t help but notice the armband tattoo on his left arm. The word “Moretti” was inked in a beautiful Old English font, with detailed lines making it look even cooler. His tattoos just added to that tough, masculine vibe he had going on. Then I saw the tattoo on his back. A raven, placed right in the middle of his back, near his shoulders and neck. It was so well done, I couldn’t stop staring at it, totally impressed.

" Yes of course." " Okay, get ready cause is long..." He said why putting down his food. " Okay firstly, I have one on my chest a wing tattoo which signifies liberty for me. On my forearm, the word GO is written in capital letters cause I love traveling. On my right bicep a big moon representing darkness, on my thorax a rose surrounded with thorns representing the lovely but difficult relationship with my mom. Here,( showing me his left hand) three birds on the back of my left hand representing freedom of choice. On my left-right arm my name written in Chinese, this one, I have done it in Japan during one of my trips. On my left palm a roaring lion representing power. On my right middle fing

version of his outfit, he wears a black tank top with the Crownsguard's insignia in gray. He has a small arm sleeve over his left wrist, and wears black shoes with red soles. He has amber eyes and a long scar over his left eye. He has a large tattoo of a bird of prey that covers his entire back and extends down his arms. The full tattoo is visible with the rugged attire from his pack. The tattoo is for male line of the Amicitia, and is the credential of the King's Shield rather than a family crest, the family members getting their tattoo when they become one of the shield.

I slowly turned around, caged in his arms, and slowly undressed him. “Why are your tattoos only on your arms and hands,” I asked, running my hands over his bare chest, no ink in sight. No ink on his legs or back. Just full arm sleeves. He smiled. “I just wasn’t into going everywhere. I figured I’d pick one area and concentrate on that, maybe branch out, but I never have. Plus the scars I had from some shit growing up were all on my arms. Why don’t you have any at all,” he asked, kissing my shoulder, then my neck.

' he replied in an icy voice. I slowly turned around to look at him, why was his features so tense? Before he went to sleep, he seemed to be in a better state, but now there was an evil aura rippling through his body. My eye suddenly fell on his left arm, he had a tattoo; it was a black dragon tattoo with a savage mouth opening that started from the end of his shoulder and extended to his wrist. This tattoo made him look tougher and more dangerous. She suddenly turns and slams her hips on the table, this movement taking her left arm out of my view, causing me to see her right arm. My eyes widened in surprise, for there was a tattoo of history on his right arm on his biceps.