Natasha's POVMy mind raced through a few twists and turns, and I reached out, grabbing hold of his shirt hem, and pouted while blinking innocently, "Mate, can't I just say I'm sorry?" It was my go-to move when dealing with Jaclyn Dills.Sure enough, Jaclyn Dills turned around, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, "What are you sorry for?"I hurriedly replied earnestly, "I shouldn't have gone to the nightclub with my friends." And what else? Jaclyn Dills' voice softened a bit.I blinked rapidly, "And I shouldn't have stayed out past ten.""And what else?""And... umm..." I racked my brain for a while but couldn't come up with anything.Jaclyn Dills' gaze slid from my face to my body, and his tone darkened, "Where did you get this outfit? I don't remember buying you anything like this. Do you know how ridiculous you look, prancing around on stage in that?""It's not prancing, it's dancing."Jaclyn Dills pursed his lips, "If this is the kind of dancing you're learning, starting tomorrow,

Jaclyn's POVOne evening, after Luna and I had just finished a round of playfulness, lying in bed catching our breath, Natash, who had just regained her composure, complained discontentedly, "Jaclyn, why are you always on top? Didn't we agree that I would be on top this time?"I innocently caressed Luna, saying, "Didn't I let you be on top for the first half just now? You seemed to be enjoying it, telling your mate to go harder, to speed up for Luna. How quickly you forget."Natash blushed, "Whether I'm on top or you move, what's the difference when you're on top of me?" I blinked, then rolled over to pin Natash beneath me, leaning down to give her a playful nip before smoothly sliding inside her. "Hmm," Natash murmured.Leaning close to Natash's ear, I lightly nibbled and said with a mischievous tone, "Luna, your mate will tell you the difference now. When you're beneath, I can support you here, making it easier." As I spoke, my hand reached between Natash's legs, parting them forcef

Jaclyn's POVFeeling depressed again. Natasha is pregnant once more. How am I supposed to deal with this? Especially after indulging in rich food for over a year, now I have to go vegetarian? It's just impossible.After having our son, I often joked with Natasha about adding a sibling for him, but it was just talk. I don't want Natasha to get pregnant again. The nine months of pregnancy plus the confinement period, a whole year of dietary restrictions because of her, I've had enough.I've been careful, almost always using protection. And when there wasn't time for that, we made sure to take precautions. But nothing is foolproof. Sure enough, Natasha dropped the bombshell on me today.I must have looked utterly devoid of joy, which must have hurt Natasha deeply. She looked at me, lips pursed, and said, "You're not happy." Snap out of it, I thought, quickly pulling her into a hug and planting a couple of kisses. "No, no, of course not, Natasha. I'm thrilled! You know how much I adore da

Jaclyn povI, Jaclyn Dills, have never been involved in things like chatting on Instagram, but Natash always likes to talk about it. In my opinion, what's the point of chatting with strangers on Instagram? If they're friends, just call them, right? But Natash never tires of it.However, now I have to succumb to this Instagram thing. To deal with this situation, I spent half a day sitting in front of the computer, finally registered for an Instagram account, and then added a friend who could provide fake IDs. When he asked me what documents I needed, I simply replied, "ID card," and then there was silence. After a moment, the other side replied, "We don't provide ID cards." I quickly asked, "Why? I heard you provide all kinds of documents." Then I added, "Money is not a problem."There was silence again for a moment, and finally, he gave me an address to meet in person. I felt strange. Now these fake ID businesses have become like spy activities, but I just wanted an ID card, and I rea

The usually deserted art gallery suddenly bustled with activity today, as vehicles came and went, occupying the few parking spaces in front. Louis emerged from the war meeting only to find not a single parking spot available. He had to park his car in the underground garage of a nearby office building and walk over. His handsome features, commanding presence, and the military insignia adorning his attire immediately drew the attention of numerous people as he stepped into the art-filled gallery. The juxtaposition of Louis' military resolve with the artistic ambiance of the gallery seemed discordant, yet he paid no heed to the curious glances of others as he made his way straight to the reception desk by the stairs, where two young women in their early twenties stood. One of the girls, her cheeks flushed with excitement, stuttered, "C-Can we help you?" under Louis' direct gaze, her head involuntarily lowering. A flicker passed through Louis' eyes, a slight upward curl at the corner