Tatoos Para El Brazo Novels & Stories

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...

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

I also noticed his tattoos stretching from his wrist to his neck to his other wrist. It reminded me of Ace and how his sleeve stops near his shoulder where as this guy had both arms covered. "Do you like my tattoos?" he pulled up his sleeve, showing me more of the tattoos. "Yeah, they're cool" I commented, not trying to come off as flirty.

Rex "This one's on me, sweetheart," I tell the brunette standing in front of me. I throw in a wink for good measure. Her eyes give me a once over, stalling on the tattoos that peek out from under my rolled-up shirt sleeves. Both of my upper arms are covered in tattoos I've designed myself but I've purposely kept my forearms bare. There's no rhyme or reason to it, simply a personal preference.

Zoey “What’s this about?” Bri asked, sitting back in her chair. She wore Wyatt’s shirt open with only a thin low-cut bralette beneath. The new tattoo she’d had Issac drill into her skin was simple and elegant as it rested on her sternum just below her breasts. Up the center of her chest, the water lily bloom birthed a crescent moon, a series of lines and dots indicating its glow in a circle around it, and above that a dainty fleur de lis. It paired with the twin Hyacinth Bean vines that now wrapped around her biceps and snaked down her arms and around each ring finger all in elegant black and grey. She and Issac had this thing about being in each other's company in companionable silence. The

– He declared, letting go of my wrist, passing his thumb over his mouth, my eyes fixed on that man with a broad, defined chest, with a pecs designed as if he had been sculpted. On his neck he had a tattoo of a dragon that released a blue-green flame from its mouth.

I nodded to myself. "Isla." Another guy introduced himself shortly. Then he subtly pointed to the back of his ear which I could barely see but I assumed that that where his BRIT tattoo was located. He's the tallest but he got the same body type as Rhyme, though Isla's biceps and triceps seemed more defined. He looked like a gym dude compare to the two. But honestly speaking, they're good-looking people with different auras.

But the moment I pushed it open, my breath caught in my throat. Adriano was inside, half naked in only sweatpants which hung low on his waist, his chest bare, toned muscles sculpted with sharp definition. Tattoos crawled along his left arm down to his waistline, dark ink winding across golden skin like art . My hand flew to my mouth as I let out a small, startled sound.

Russian's POV A man in his late forties stepped into the basement, his bald head gleaming under the dim light. A tattoo of a fierce scorpion snaked from his neck to his scalp, marking him as someone not to be trifled with. His body was a canvas of ink, displaying various tattoos that told stories of battles fought and won. He dressed sharply, with a few buttons of his shirt undone, exuding an air of relaxed authority. He walked with a noticeable limp, leaning on a sturdy walking stick that seemed to amplify the aura of danger surrounding him.