Trafalgar Tattoo Novels & Stories

Her eyes swept over him slowly. From his lean, muscular torso, down the ridges of his abdomen, and across his inked chest…and that was when she saw it. A tattoo. One she hadn't noticed until now. It started from beneath his left collarbone, curling like smoke across his pec, down his ribs, wrapping over his left shoulder and down the length of his arm. It wasn’t just art..it was storytelling ink, a tapestry of symbols and sharp lines. A Roman centurion stood at the heart of it, helmet tilted upward with a stare to the heavens. Surrounding him, a serpent curled and bled into feathers, and beneath it, Latin script ran along the bottom edge like scripture.

They both took a moment to stare at each other as Althea's hands trailed on his chest, where a huge tattoo laid on. "Did it hurt?" She asked, her eyes fixed on the tattoo on his chest. "Not as much as you might think," Adam replied. He reached up and gently lifted Althea's face, meeting her eyes. "But the pain was worth it. To me, at least." Althea studied his face, her fingers still tracing the outline of the tattoo. "What does it mean to you?" she asked. "Why did you choose this particular design?" Adam's tattoo was a design of a one-winged butterfly.

There, stark against his skin, was a tattoo. A complex, intricate design of two family crests intertwined—the Moretti lion and the Castellano eagle, forever wrapped around each other. He got it on our wedding day. He said it represented the eternal alliance of our families, and our eternal vows to each other. “Aurora,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Do you remember this tattoo?” The cold night wind blew past, whipping a strand of hair across my face. I looked at the tattoo in silence. After a long moment, I reached out.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

He gestured to the open glass doors with a smile. I have never talked about Franco since it happened. It's a painful subject for me. It was the first time in my life someone took advantage of me and it hurt like hell. "A cup for the beautiful lady. Try sweet today." "I don't take sugar! I told you that!" "Try sweet today." He winked at me. As he grabbed the doughnuts I looked at the wings of an eagle tattooed on the span of his back. There's also one of an trident at the top of his arm right below his shoulder.

"They stopped suddenly, too, as if he thought we were a...lost cause." Tristan's gaze met hers. "Was there anything else you can recall about the man tonight?" She went to shake her head, but then something flickered to mind. "He had a tattoo on his left pec, over his heart. It was about three inches long." She straightened, making Brady shift his hand to her hip. "I need something to draw on." Ceara stood and went to a shelf, bringing back a pad of paper and pen.

“Revenge? That would be tempting Erik, but I prefer not. However, I do would like to forgive you if you answer my question earlier.” He raised a brow for a moment and then something dawned on him. “You sly vixen,” his stated playfully, “You want me to talk about my tattoo?” I nodded while keeping my mouth zipped, trying to give him puppy-dog eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional but he heaved a deep, really deep breath before started answering me. “This tattoo shows my rank in my father’s Bratva. It shows that I am family and basically his eventual successor if I hadn’t escaped.”

When she finally stepped out, droplets sliding down her thighs, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed, her lips slightly swollen from biting them too hard. Her eyes were glassy with something unspoken. And when she turned, she saw it again — the mark on her left hip. A tattoo - like crest. Etched into her skin like a brand. It shimmered faintly in the light, elegant yet powerful. A circular sigil framed by olive leaves and ancient runes, with an owl perched atop a spear pointed downward, its wings wrapped protectively around the circle.

I irritatingly mutter but he just presses his lips tightly to me. "You're not that talkative before" he mutters "Let me show you my tattoo" he whisper. I stop. So he's serious about getting undress first before I able to see his tattoo? "Eyes down here honey," he sexily utter "Here's my tattoo" I slowly look down and I saw him pointed the upper part of his waist. And there I saw his tattoo, a small crown with a written letter under it- Cosa Il Sovrano. The 'L' in the Cosa Il Sovrano was replaced by a knife. The font style is beautiful and it matches the font size.

“You like them?” God, that smile. My knees actually shifted under the table. “Maybe,” I teased, though my voice wasn’t nearly as steady as I hoped. “They each mean something,” he said, rolling up his sleeve to show more. “This one" he tapped the wolf "is for loyalty. This one—" he pointed at a jagged line with fire etched into it "is for survival. "And this” He smirked, pulling the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal a tattoo near his collarbone. “is just for fun.”