Tatoos Para El Brazo Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Really? I love them. All of them. Especially the twisted barbed wire circling this biceps. It looks so real. The drops of blood on the tips of the barbs are a realistic touch.” “Is that why you had me do one on you?” She traced the thick black lines on Colt’s biceps. His tat was a far better design than hers. She’d killed herself drawing it, and spent extra time inking him, desperate for Colt to be proud to have it on his arm. “Yep. If I had the guts, I’d have you continue all the way down to my wrist so it looks like my arm is trapped in barbed wire.” India’s head started spinning. That would actually make a kick-ass tattoo.

He also wore an ash colored sweat pants and I could swear that he had no boxers on. For a minute or more, my eyes took in every detail of his hot banging body. Squared shoulders enough to contain ten of my thighs, biceps sexy as hell, lips tempting as ever, then the tattoo? My goodness! How could he draw something so filthy on his body? And of all places, he chose his arm? It was a beautiful picture of a dripping pussy. A closer look at it will make you think it's a waterfall, but then? Isn't that what a pussy is?

He looked at me as though I was faking my feelings. “Are you done with your drama? Or whatever the fuck that is?” he smirked, “you’ve ruined the fun” he retorted, standing up straight and pulling both his sleeve higher up his arm, his arms were covered with tattoos, these are new? The last time I saw Mateo he had just one, his mother’s name on his left shoulder. Every pattern of his tattoos was unique, there was a phoenix on his left arm, but it was bathed in blood, what could be the story behind that I wondered.

Nate's hold on my hand tightens into a grip. Gosh, Killer is so massive. The side of his forehead is plastered with a bandage dotted with a large red stain, which is obviously blood. His upper lip is split, the bruise now swollen with a purple colouration. A long straight scar runs from the left side of his mouth up towards his earlobe. He is shirtless, his black tattoos covering every inch of the skin of his neck and chest and shoulders and abdomen. His tattoos make me wonder why Nate doesn't have even one. I thought it is like a formal tradition for all fighters to have at least two or more tattoos on their bodies. But damn, this guy's tattoos are like legions of dark ink crawling all over

"Where's your evidence? And where's why you can identify her?" Liam points at her right hand that's barely covered by the white clothe. "That small upside down cross tattoo over there." "A lot of people have tattoos there, same tattoo at the same exact spot. What makes her different?" "This..." He pulls up his own turtle neck sleeve and shoes the doctor the same exact tattoo on his own wrist. Ivy looked on, shocked because she has never seen the tattoo before. "You see this mark here? It looks like an upside down cross to every other simple minded person but what it actually is a kite." He flicks his wrist around to his own point of view and they see it. "We had a master tattoo master do it

” He grabbed my hands and led me to the carnival shooting booths handing me the small arrows to arm at the water ball. He goes first, and with five arrows he misses like a toddler losing a game. That motivates me to aim, win and give him the puppy plushie. If I didn't know Machado was a feared Mafia Boss, I'd argue with anyone who told me —-- because right now, he is jumping with excitement like a kid getting a prize. His joy disarms me like a toy gun shooting real bullets. His tattoos peak from his knuckles and arm—- two rings on his fingers, the index and pinkie, probably making his family rank. Skulls and bullets inked on his knuckles.

Even back when we were teenagers. Now, though…hell, I don't know that I've ever seen anyone that looks as holy-shit-hot as Marcus does with his shirt off. When I last saw him, he had one tattoo on his shoulder, but now they snake around his forearms and biceps and cover his chest. His very broad, very defined chest.

Before I could decide on a comfortable position to watch from, a matt black sports car which screamed money parked by the road and the sexiest guy had ever seen in person stepped out from it. All the pictures online didn’t do him justice. He had shoulder length type 3C hair which was curly and jet black. His eyes were baby blue and had a frozen look. His nose was straight and pointed and his lips were pink and looked soft and inviting. His body was proof of daily workouts. When I came to my senses and realised that I was drooling, I looked around to see if anyone had caught me staring but then I noticed that all the girls around and even the ones that were passing by turned at least once to

Muscles bulged all over their bare backs, tattoos twisted and snaked around over their shoulders, necks, and probably further down their chest. One had a high and messy braid that went from his forehead and all the way down his neck. The sides were skinned. Snake-shaped tattoos decorated one of the sides of his head. The other had a little lighter hair, darker brown. The sides of his head were also shaved down to the skin, but his hair was twisted and formed with leather bands all the way to the middle of his back.

Grace nearly dropped the soap. Scars, large and small, crossed his torso. She'd seen bullet scars before. There were two right next to each other under his left arm. She was so focused on the terrible scars that she barely noticed the black, abstract, curvilinear tattoos on his chest and shoulders. They were fierce, with what looked like stylized talons interwoven with curving, concentric whiplash curves. He was bruised almost black on his right side. More tattoos covered his wrists and elbows in precise, flowing patterns made up of repeating geometric shapes. The burn scar on his left hand was part of a larger burn that marred the tattoo right up to his elbow.