Romans & histoires Your Stuck On Me Like A Tattoo

Sticky? I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked down. “Jesus fucking Christ!” There was a tattoo on my chest. Right over my heart. Black ink in elegant script: “property of Lorenzo King.” Small, precise letters framed by a tiny heart at the end. Dry cum flaked around the edges like obscene sealant. I collapsed back onto the pillows and stared up at the ceiling mirror. The reflection showed the same words staring back at me. Mocking me. Claiming me. “Oh god…”

Palmer would come by later to settle the bill. Panic surged through me. I struggled desperately, only to find that while the restraints looked soft, there was no way to break free. "Where's everyone? I thought I told them I'd come by to settle the bill today." Mr. Palmer's voice drew closer and closer until it sounded just a few steps away. Frozen in this embarrassing position, I felt my face flush crimson. And in my panic, I froze completely, not daring to move a muscle. "Is this a new doll that just arrived?"

Me staring at a naked guy for the second time in my damn life. My breath caught in my throat, trapped. I was trapped. My eyes completely rebelled against my brain's frantic commands to look the fuck away. Instead, they traced the dark, heavy ink of a tattoo etched across his upper shoulder blades. Three words, bold and unyielding: "Built Through Pain." The script wasn't flashy or arrogant. It felt heavy. It looked like a scar turned into art—a quiet testament to something survival-driven. A strange, unbidden ache blossomed in my chest just looking at it.

I screamed as I came again, harder than ever. The tattoo came on what I think was day five. He numbed the skin near my pussy, just above my clit. The small, elegant “J” was inked permanently into my flesh. I watched it happen, strangely calm. When he finished, he kissed it tenderly. “This is forever,” he said. “Yes…” The word slipped out easily, whole heartedly. Resistance shattered that night. Left in total deprivation for hours, I hallucinated him everywhere, his scent, his touch, his voice. When he finally returned, I was a broken, sobbing mess.

You looked so beautiful yesterday I cannot wait till you’re mine Just know i am always with you I see your every move Yours S.C "H-h-h-he can see me, he is not going to let me rest, why is he stalking me, I’m just me i have nothing extraordinary" i started to ramble on and on about it, Damien sat beside me and held my hands "Stop it princess, we would work this out together alright, I already someone to trace those flowers and where they come from, so we just need to keep calm alright" he tells me and i nod

Cara mutters to herself as she rolls her shirt up. Cara notices the dirty look that Gwen gives her as she stares stomach. This is not the first or the second but this is the first time she comments about it. "Nice piercing." Gwen gives Cara an irritated look. "Thanks got it when I was 12 along with this tattoo." Cara gestures at her thighs which is showing through her short skirt. Now that's something to judge about. Xander can't hide his amusement; he has always been interested in the tattoo. Personally, he doesn't like tattoos, his skin his flawless but the tattoo is perfect on Cara's skin.

"I apologize for this request, doctor, but may you please do the X-ray scan quickly." "Of course... May you please show us you're bareback." What the fuck is this luck?! It's not like Mr. Wissen read my mind, right? His enhancement is charisma, which allows him to be the focal point of attention no matter what he says, so he shouldn't see through me. Back to the present... If the bloody swing tattoo is on his back, that confirms it! But if it isn't, then I'll move on to the next suspect. Not following the doctor's orders will also indicate he is Hitoshi.

I push myself inside her and feel the walls of her throat as I hear her gag. “Every time you see that Claddagh tattoo down there, remember that you’re the owner of that big cock.” I was slightly offended when I told her the first time that I got the tattoo on the base of my cock for her and she didn’t believe me. But she’s clearly fascinated because she always compliments it. So I’m always going to remind her what the tattoo means.

I was so drained after that, she seemed impossible to get rid off. Not to mention that everything I do to push her away only seemed to energize and excite her to pester me more. What the fuck is wrong with her?! And what the hell even is this tattoo she put on me? I walked to the mirror and was able to see it more clearly now. It stretched from the center of my chest up to my collarbones. I traced the pattern with my hands and shook my head despondently. I sat on the bed and contemplated for a while, a lot of thoughts currently hurling in my head.

It felt like walking a tightrope over fire — one wrong move, and I would fall, consumed by flames. I watched him, mesmerized. His body was lean, sculpted, every muscle defined, every tattoo a story. He had new ones. Three, to be exact. One was our birth date. Another was “Lii,” written in a design I had once doodled, combining our names. The third was a phrase — “You're mine” — written in my handwriting, with my thumbprint etched beside it. I traced on his “You’re mine” tattoo, which was below Lii on his chest and gently kissed it. I could feel his heart throb under my touch.