The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin)

Chapter 539 Malcolm is a sandbag; just do not hit his face

He was sleeping until he woke up by the slap, which was simply too exciting.

Malcolm opened his eyes quickly.

In the darkness, another slap came against with the strong wind.

He sensed it keenly and struck quickly. He grabbed Lyra's wrist and got up to turn on the bedside table

lamp.

Turning back again, he met Lyra's red and manic eyes.

Another attack, what happened?

He was puzzled when Lyra kicked at him. He dodged sideways, and with both of them having martial

arts backgrounds, they fought directly on the bed.

Only, Malcolm was all about defense and Lyra was all about offense.

In terms of martial arts, despite Lyra's manic state, Malcolm was always better than her, and there was

an even greater disparity in strength between men and women.

They lasted for about ten minutes of fighting. Lyra suddenly got out of bed sharply and furiously

grabbed the bedside lamp to smash it.

"Rara don't!"

Malcolm was confused. How could this be a shift in strategy?

He rushed over to grab it and was too slow.

Snapping-

The lamp knocked into the corner of the table, with a loud bang. And it was smashed to pieces.

The flying glass shards cut Lyra's calf, but she felt no pain at all. Those scarlet eyes covered with

murderous intent.

There seemed to be only one idea. That was to see blood.

She took a shattered and sharp bedside table lamp and pointed it straight at Malcolm's heart.

Malcolm spun around to avoid it and nimbly knocked the murder weapon out of her hand from the side.

"Honey, don't take such a life-threatening weapon. Let's just have a couple of moves."

He sounded helpless, but Lyra, in her manic state, had no idea what he was talking about.

The eyes were fierce and stern. She broke free from him with force and turned her head to slam bottles

and jars on the dressing table again.

Malcolm noticed that she was looking that way and quickly stepped in front of her.

"Don't smash things. It will hurt you. You better hit me. I will not hide. Let you vent out your anger, OK?"

Lyra's eyes were sinister, and once again, she swung her hand up towards his face.

Seeing another slap to smash down, Malcolm raised his arm to block and said sadly and helplessly, "Or

don't hit the face. It will not look good."

Lyra, with no sense of dominance at all, swung her left hand up and over at his face again.

He stopped again, and his brain was racing for a solution.

He can't hit Rara in the back of the head. And he can't let Rara smash things and can't let Rara punch

him in the face.

He forgot to ask Jimmy for two shots of tranquilizer last night, when he waited for a backup in an

emergency.

What should he do ...

His mind was frantically thinking about what Jimmy had said last night.

Within seconds, he made a quick decision.

A belt was quickly carried from the coat rack and shoved into Lyra's hand, "Here, hit me and vent."

The corners of Lyra's mouth curved in a sickly manner, and she flung the belt harshly, striking it against

him.

Malcolm stood without hiding, protected his head and face with one hand, and between his legs with

the other, to prevent being hit by mistake and losing his eternal happiness.

The belt whistled like a raging wind, constantly flung to his back, waist, arms, chest, buttocks, legs ...

Every part of the body was covered with pain, except for the sheltered areas.

Malcolm gritted his teeth and bore it in silence, acting as a human sandbag.

Whoosh-pop-

Whoosh-pop-

The sound of breaking wind kept ringing, cutting through the silence of the dark night, which sounded

horrible for a far.

He was glad that he brought the babies to grandpa in advance. Otherwise such a commotion would

have scared the babies into tears.

She was venting and it lasted for more than half an hour. Lyra, who had lost her dominant

consciousness, used all her strength.

With this uninterrupted and intense venting, she quickly ran out of energy.

The sound of breaking wind stopped, and Malcolm quickly took two steps forward, and carried Lyra,

who was weak and powerless, into his arms.

It was exactly as Jimmy said, after venting and exhausted, Lyra fell asleep on her own.

Finally it was the ending of the night's grinding experience. Malcolm breathed a long sigh of relief and

carried Lyra back to bed. Then he tucked her in.

After waiting a few minutes to make sure she was really sleeping peacefully, he endured the pain on

his hip and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed to check on himself.

The pajamas and pants were smashed in many places and ruined.

The whole body was covered with the marks after abuse. Everywhere on his body was a deep red and

purple belt marks, and some of the injuries had been drawn through the skin.

Rara's strength was not bad.

He sighed helplessly and endured the pain all over his body, went downstairs to the kitchen and took

an ice pack for his face.

And fetching the medical kit, he sat himself on the sofa, smeared the swelling medicine on his body

where he could touch. And he used the swelling spray on his back quickly and skillfully.

Re-entering the bedroom, he cleaned up the glass shards from the table lamp on the floor again.

After doing this, it was already 2:00 am.

He changed into a new set of pajamas, covered the bruises on his body tightly, and carefully slept on

the bed, tentatively holding Lyra to sleep.

...

Lyra slept again until noon.

She was awakened by the smell of Malcolm's simmering beef porridge.

When she woke up completely, the shards of the lamp broken in last night's fight, the pajamas and

pants torn by the belt were all destroyed and disposed of by Malcolm.

When she moved gently, her body was so weak that she had no strength at all. She was puzzled when

she saw Malcolm come in with a bowl of porridge.

Malcolm put the bowl of porridge on the bedside table, thoughtfully helped her to support her with the

pillow and helped her to half lean on the head of the bed.

"Honey, what did we do last night? Why do I feel so tired?"

She beat him for more than an hour last night. Could she not be tired?

Thinking resentfully, he was smiling in a doting way, "Rara seemed to have a nightmare last night. I

guess that's why you didn't sleep well. That's why you felt tired."

"Really?"

Lyra didn't believe it, "Even if I have a nightmare, I am not so tired that I don't have any energy, right?

Besides, why can't I remember anything?"

Malcolm did not change his face, "You were indeed too tired last night and fell asleep watching the

movie. I carried you back to the room to rest."

Lyra always felt strange and looked at him suspiciously, "Honey, did you ... do something to me at night

while I was asleep?"

Malcolm was speechless.

He sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the bowl of porridge, patiently stirred and blew, "No, your

husband is a decent man. I will ask your permission before sex. I won't force you."

Lyra naturally believed him.

She stared at his movements stirring the bowl of porridge. His stunning face, when he was doing

something seriously, was incomparably pleasing to the eyes.

But.

She stared at him and felt something was wrong, "Honey, what happened to your face? Why does it

feel a bit fat?"

Malcolm choked and explained calmly, "I guess I recently have eaten too much so my face looks fat.

Rara if you do not like it, from today I will eat less to lose weight."

"That's not necessary. You have good-looking features. Even if the cheeks grow a little fleshy, it is also

handsome, just ..."

She trailed off and squinted her eyes as she examined his face, "Why does it feel like the left side of

your face is a little fatter than the right. Asymmetrical?"

He haughtily and elegantly blew the porridge in the spoon, handed it to Lyra's mouth, and continued to Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

bullshit, "Human features are not perfectly symmetrical in the first place. I've been eating with my left

lately, so it's not symmetrical."

This explanation made sense.

Lyra did not continue the topic, opened her mouth to take the porridge he handed her, chewed gently,

and enjoyed her husband's attentive service.

After she got up, she did not know what time it was. Lyra turned her head to get the phone on the

nightstand to see the time and work information, but suddenly found that the bedroom was a little bit

unusual.

She wondered, "Honey, I told you why the room is weird. Why is the lamp missing?"