Novel & Cerita Rosary Hand Tattoo Men

Late forties, maybe fifty, shaved head gleaming under the strobes, a thick silver chain around his neck. Tattoos crawled up his throat and down both arms, faded prison style roses mixed with newer, sharper pieces. His hands were scarred, knuckles busted a hundred times, the kind of hands that had fixed engines and broken jaws in the same lifetime. He didn’t ask with words. He just stopped in front of me, eyes dark and steady, and slid one huge palm to my waist like it belonged there. The other hand hovered, waiting. The music swallowed everything else, I couldn’t even hear my own heartbeat anymore.

He patted my shoulder with his tattooed hand. I stared at it, his body was so beautiful, it was like a display of art. Various inks and pictures went up his arms, to his neck and his back. It was truly beautiful, there was a wolf, a symbol, a date, a quote, a picture of some guy and my favorite tattoo was on the back of his hand. It was, 'Fuck you. It's my life' written in italic letters. "Someday you will have something meaningful enough kid." He wound his arm around my neck and practically dragged me to the back of the shop where most of the piercings were done. "Now, wait here while I get the equipments ready."

I nearly fall but he holds my hand before I reach the ground. “I'm sorry ma'am. Didn't look where I was going." He looks to be in his mid-forties with a scar on his left cheek. “Don't worry about that." I look down at his hand and there is another scar but what catches my interest is the tattoo on his right thumb. It looks familiar but I can't place it. “Are you alright?" Stephan asks as the man walks away. “Yes. He was apologizing for nearly making me fall." I put the scarred man and his tattoo away and focus on thanking Stephan.

That is after stuffing myself with good food and slap a ridiculous amount of skincare on my face including this gold mask. The next thing I know I'm being carried to the bed by those strong tattooed arms. ‘forEVEr’ or the way we pronounce it for-eve-err can easily be read from his right arm. Previously he only tattooed his left hand with drawings so I asked why not the other hand, why not words instead of drawings, so many why's that the next time I saw him I caught those Roman words already inked on his right arm. He told me he only put my name there because he's saving space for his three kids under mine.

“Do I make you unhappy?” I swallowed, shaking my head. “No,” He kissed me deep and slowly before he pulled me apart, and I rested my head back on his chest, running the tip of my finger through every fascinating masterpiece on his chest. His torso was covered in black and white tattoos, from a Madonna and child on his stomach to a dagger weaving through his collarbone from shoulder to shoulder. A cross on one of his pecs and a rose on the other. A domed church on his side. A lighthouse on his left arm and on his right arm, below his bullet wound, was a familiar tattoo in red. I'd seen it on Savio's arm as well.

"Did Cosimo send you?" The man scratched his temple with a smirk on his face. He had short dark hair on the sides with matching sideburns, and a wavy fringe combed to the right. "Have you heard of the Syndicate?" he asked. The echo of that last word swooshed through my brain like an arrow. The Syndicate... as in the SBS secret society?! No way this is true. "Why should I believe you're one of them?" I dared to ask. Without hesitation, the man pulled up his sleeve and shoved his right forearm in my face. He had the tattoo of an anchor drawn on twice, but with different ink.

Scar kissed her neck softly as she traced every line of the ink as if she was re-inking them herself. A large skull was surrounded by an array of roses. A Christian cross in the back, behind the skull, stuck out to Lani because of the dove perched on it so innocently. Scar's tattoos were a mixture of dark and light, they described him perfectly. The same happened on his arms, one was decorated with the ideas of Satan, the other those of holy angels.

One of his hands rested on the uncluttered desk in front of him revealing well-manicured fingernails. On his wrist was a bracelet of some sorts; black with a hue of brown. The sleeves of his clothes had been rolled up and I could see another tattoo in the shape of an arrow starting just under the bracelet to run far into to his arms disappearing where the roll of his sleeve had ended. Sitting down there he looked, powerful, totally at ease and…sexy. “I said I couldn’t remember anything about those names just now,” I snapped. Ryker arched an eyebrow at me his tongue peeking out slightly to run across his lips the action drawing the attention of my gaze. I felt a tingle pass through me as I th

He say but I'm to focused on his tattooed body to care about anything he says right now. My fingers trace the inked skin. He has a huge tattoo of Kali, the goddess of destruction, on his front. Different designs litter his skin but my favourite has to be the flower on his neck. It is the only tattoo that has colour out of them all on his front. He has his nipples pierced and I never thought I would say this but it looks really sexy.

The man said like a maniac. “You are mine only mine.” The man mounted up from the couch while ranting the same line, brushed away everything from the table making them fall on the floor and scattered in many pieces and increased the messed in the room. He then walked in front of the mirror tore his shirt with a jerk revealing his build-up chest but at the left side of his chest right above the position of the heart, there was a heart-shaped tattoo written ‘JACK LOVE ROSE’ inside the heart. The man caressed the tattoo for a few minutes while adorning it with wet and enraged eyes. “I love you, Rose,” and keep on ranting the same line.