Tatoos Para El Brazo Novels & Stories

The tattoo. It had been there for years, initially just a faint black swirl of ink on the back of his hand. But now, as he moved, I noticed it had grown larger, the lines sharper. The tattoo had extended up his arm in a way I hadn’t anticipated. It was no longer confined to his hand—it had spread to his forearm, creeping up his skin like something alive. I had sensed for a while that something unusual was occurring, something I couldn’t fully grasp. But this… this was something else entirely.

Summer’s fingers shook as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt from the top by his throat. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and knew that he was fighting the urge to bite her. He remained motionless, waiting for her to move further. She could feel the tension increase as she slowly made her way down, gradually releasing each button to display his muscular chest. Her eyes were transfixed by an emerging tattoo. On his sternum was tired tree branches that spread off in every direction. As she pushed her hand to open more of his shirt the patterns changed towards his arms which took a haunted vein and shattered glass appearance. On the end of some of the branches had numerous nam

Damn. My mate stood before me in just a pair of basketball shorts that hung dangerously low on his hips. Underneath all the bruises, dirt, and sweat, his body was magnificent. There was a large tribal tattoo on his right arm that spilled over onto his chest. I wanted to feel every inch of that chest, commit that tattoo to memory. His 8-pack was so well defined it looked like it was airbrushed, and that v-line? I just want to run my tongue... My thoughts were interrupted by Aaron clearing his throat.

She had reached her goal and was now the Bellator champion. An arm encircled her waist with a familiar hand pulling her into his side. Instinctively, Taz reached down and touched the tattoo on his outer wrist. A small bill of sale declaring that his body, heart and soul had been sold to the Devil herself. Linking her fingers with his, she played with his titanium wedding band. Running through the center was a rainbow in support of his daughter. Beneath the ring, in the style of her trademark rainbow braids, TAZ was tattooed on his ring finger.

His sleeve rides up, revealing the edge of a mantis tattoo. “-Fuck”

A tattoo covers one of his pecs, moving up to his shoulder and down part of his arm. His arms are just as huge as the rest of him—sculpted biceps and forearms and… good Lord, this guy looks like he should be felling trees or something. My eyes don’t stay on his arms, though—they go right back to the bongos. And the fact that those bongos are covering his… bongos. “My package?” he asks. “What?! I’m not looking at your package,” I protest. My voice seems to come out at least an octave higher than it is. I practically squeak like a mouse.

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.

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

I froze. He was tall—broad in the shoulders, built like a man who had seen a hundred battles and walked away from all of them. His arms were bare, thick with muscle, marked with black ink that twisted into strange patterns across his skin. The tattoos climbed his neck and curled along his jaw.

He tightened his grip as he asked, "So what?!" I don't know what to say, so I gave up and kept laid there...Relishing the solace in his arm. The heavy layers of muscle in his arm flaunted out as he put a bit of pressure while holding me. His muscly arm was covered in tribal tattoo...Then my eyes fall on his firm chest...covered in dragon tattoo... To retain myself occupied I draw on his broad chest with my index finger along with the edge of the dragon tattoo... My hand stopped as I reached near the uneven portion of his chest...it seemed like a wound...but healed long ago...