Feel Uncomfortable Artinya

Aj needs big money for her father's medication and operation, then he meets a guy and offers her a job that can make her problems solved. She needs to sign a marriage contract and be the wife of the lawyer's client. She doesn't know who her husband is, neither name nor age. Then suddenly someone knocked on her door, a man is standing in front of her, wearing a suit. The man introduced himself as her bodyguard. She had no choice but to accept him. When they started to live together in her husband's house, She became uneasy because of her bodyguard. He makes her uncomfortable because her feelings and desire for him are starting to build up. They happened to have a one-night stand because of her, he stopped her, but she wanted to feel him. That's when she started to have an affair with her mysterious bodyguard. But what if she found out the real identity of her bodyguard? Would she stop wanting him, or would she still let him own her?

The day before Henry Baker and I are supposed to marry, my mother sedates me. She makes my twin sister marry Henry instead. A few years later, the company Henry established turns into a thriving empire. My sister, Diana Halliwell, flourishes with him. While I was at the lowest point in my life, my childhood friend, Jorge Ward, proposed. It's only after marriage that I realize he's worthless. Diana and Henry attend various parties. They enjoy delicious food and wear expensive clothes. Meanwhile, I end up exhausted after having to cook and clean for my family. One night, Mom speaks softly to Jorge when she thinks I've fallen asleep. "I was worried she would find out the truth about what happened back then, but it seems she's too dumb to notice anything." Jorge laughs. "You're a genius, Erica. You laced Laura's water with sleeping pills so Diana could marry Henry on her behalf. I'm glad to see how happy Diana is now." Mom sighs. "I just feel bad for you. You've always liked Diana, yet you're forced to live with a wash-out like Laura…"

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

My husband died unexpectedly, and my mother-in-law adopted a newborn boy. She said she wanted to keep this child by her side as a reminder of my husband. Therefore, I raised him as my own child. Later, when he grew up, I gave him the company with peace of mind. The first thing my son did after taking power was to have someone lock me up in the basement and torture me. He said, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn’t have been separated from my parents all these years." At the moment of my death, my husband, who had supposedly passed away for many years, appeared with his first love in his arms. "Sophia, how does it feel to be cheated for more than ten years? Fortunately, you raised a son for me so that we can live happily without you." Angered to death, I could only watch the three of them. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day when my husband died unexpectedly.

Janiyah finds herself reluctantly on the auction stage in a world where women are auctioned off for one-night stands because she is desperately trying to get money for her sick sister's medical care. Janiyah becomes increasingly uncomfortable as the auction goes on, especially when an unexpected bidder makes an amazing fifty million dollars for her.

Janiyah finds herself reluctantly on the auction stage in a world where women are auctioned off for one-night stands because she is desperately trying to get money for her sick sister's medical care. Janiyah becomes increasingly uncomfortable as the auction continues, especially when an unexpected bidder makes an astonishing fifty million dollars for her.

(A/N: Hello sweety, I want to inform you and assure you that this book is certainly the erotica book you are looking for. This book is all about the thrilling sex life of a youngster, which is very erotic, steamy, and has a touch of dark relationship and dark romance (BDSM). (Do enjoy reading!) Snow POV I stare at the naked figure besides me in amusement. I still can't believe that this man is the one making me moan crazily like a mad woman. His dirty words, his touch, the things he does to me, and the things he makes me do, felt really crazy but enjoyable. My life has become engulfed by him, making me madly obsessed and addicted to him. If I don't see him, I will feel uncomfortable and sad. He has become a vital part of my life, my breath, and everything! He makes me feel so good; he makes me feel like a real woman. He is the only one who can send me to hell in heaven and drag me back. The rate at which he handles my body when it tangles in his, the sexual chemistry, the burning pleasurable desire, and the way my body writhes in his addictive touch make me go lustfully crazy. I don't know if such feelings ever existed before! My mother never mentioned this to me; she even barely spared time to teach me sex education. But here I am, having a bonus, a premium of the real thing, and the unfortunate part is that he is my coach! A 30-year-old married man! While I'm just a 19-year-old trainee of his!

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

In front of the orphanage gates, Rebecca Schwartz, the impoverished student I had been sponsoring, stood glaring at me with a face full of disdain. "If you don't let Freddie come along, I'm not going to your house either," she declared, her tone sharp and unyielding. In the past, blinded by love and hopelessly infatuated, I would have caved to her demands, humbling myself just to keep the peace. But things were different now—I had been reborn. Staring at this despicable pair, who had once caused my tragic demise, a tidal wave of fury surged within me. Yet, it settled into nothing more than a faint, icy smile on my lips. "Then stay here," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Rot in this place alongside your precious Freddie. After all, trash like you belong in the garbage heap."