The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin)

Chapter 251 Mr. Malcolm is aggrieved

She caught his fingertips to prevent him from subconscious retracting in pain. Her right hand raised

high and she stroked three times.

This time, she did not hold back, with her own jujitsu base, and made a full swing down.

Malcolm hissed and gasped. His jawline tensed up and his arms trembled uncontrollably.

The broad palm quickly swollen and filled with blood, with purplish-red marks that were clearly visible.

Every stroke was superimposed on the same place in the palm. Malcolm hated this kind of pain.

Because of the fragility of the palm, it was severely painful.

He failed to discipline her, but was hit by Lyra. He felt depressed.

Never should have listened to that idiot Chad's stupid idea!

What a bullshit whip, but it gave Lyra a handy thing to use, and a legitimate reason to beat him up!

Lyra saw his miserable expression and opened her mouth with the same question.

"Does it hurt?"

Malcolm understood, "Ouch ..."

Lyra looked at the bruise on his palm, which was swollen.

She put down the whip. The hand that originally caught his fingertips turned into a thumb to gently help

him rub the pain.

"If you know it will hurt, and if it hits me, I'll probably feel more painful than you do. Then why do you

still want to bully me with such a thing?"

Malcolm was aggrieved, "I did not. I just scare you. How could I really want to hit you with this?"

But Lyra was willing to hit him with this.

Not only did she really hit, but she hit extremely hard!

After beating and massaging, this kind of behavior made him angry but there was no way to vent out.

He became even more aggravated and his eyes were slightly red.

Lyra's face was serious, "That won't work either! I can let you scare me? What if my heart is weak and

you barge in and yell at me so suddenly and viciously that I faint? Besides, you are be supposed to

care for me."

Malcolm did not speak, but she continued, "If men are capable, they should fix those bad people

outside, not their women. Such a man is the most useless. Mel is trying to be such a man?"

Malcolm was completely brainwashed by her reasoning, forgetting that he had never even thought

about actually hitting her.

Lyra's eyes glowed with a cold light, "Are you wrong?"

"Wrong."

"So should you be beaten tonight?"

"Yes."

Lyra re-caught his fingertips, picked up the whip next to him, and slammed it twice more in quick

succession, with undiminished force.

Malcolm pursed his thin lips and watched as the vicious whip smashed his palm and swelled quickly, NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

staining it with deeper purple-red ribs.

"These were to punish you call me by my full name for two times. Do you acknowledge it?"

"Yes."

Seeing that he was sincere, Lyra put down the whip, "Wait, don't get up." Then she got up and went to

the living room and quickly returned with a medicine chest of ointment to reduce swelling.

The ointment stung a little as it was applied to the swollen wound on the palm of his hand.

Malcolm hissed softly, "Blow a ..."

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Her face was fierce, "You asked for the fight yourself."

Although she said so, she still carefully blow cool air to help him ease the pain.

While she helped him apply the medicine, she still felt a little strange, "Why are you suddenly so bold

tonight? Who said something to you?"

Malcolm thought about it. Reginald was the elder, and Lyra's beloved father, so he can not accuse

Reginald.

So only ...

"It was Chad. He had the bad idea."

Malcolm relentlessly blamed it on Chad, the fool, and reported to Lyra word for word what Chad had

taught him to say during the day.

Lyra listened to him and did not want to fix Chad, but thoughtfully pondered.

"Chad is quite right. If men do not listen, indeed they have to be properly disciplined. As for the family

rules, I think about it during this period of time. You can put forward to it. How about it?"

Malcolm's eyes were downcast and he was silent.

He was lifting a stone and smashing his own feet!

Not getting an answer from him, Lyra took a tissue and wiped the ointment off her hand before picking

his lowered chin with her fingertips, "Dumb?"

He didn't feel good about it!

But yielding to Lyra who was about to pick up the whip motion, he felt even more miserable, "All at your

service."

Lyra was satisfied, "Okay, I think you've confessed, so forget about tonight."

Malcolm noted keenly that she said "tonight".

In other words, she hadn't even mentioned the wrongdoing the other day?

He swallowed and his dark eyes stared uneasily at Lyra's delicate face.

Seeing him like this, Lyra smiled with arched eyebrows and gently stroked his cheek, "Mel, don't be

afraid. Take advantage of this good day tonight. I have a big gift for you. You must be very surprised!"

Malcolm swallowed again.

Surprise?

He was frightening.

Every time she gave him a gift, it was not good.

Last time it was the bankruptcy, employment agreement, and 023, what will it be this time?

Lyra saw his suspicious gaze, got up, opened the closet and pulled out a washboard.

"To match your status, I've had this washboard exclusively custom-made! The wood is hard. The smell

is fresh, and it's guaranteed to give your knees the most intimate service!"

Malcolm looked at the expensive board in her hand, and his face went pale.

Lyra raised her eyebrows and smiled evilly, "Mel, do you like it?"

He gritted his teeth and nodded his head, "You're really, 'loving' me a lot!"

"That's for sure." Lyra handed him the board, "Here, try it."

Malcolm took it with a light tremor in his fingers, rested the expensive wooden board on the carpet next

to the bed, and slowly moved his knees up.

Just as he knelt up, Malcolm's features distorted and he inhaled deeply.

It was really good wood, hard enough!

It really hurt ...

The sharp edges of the board knocked against his knees, and he unconsciously curved his spine, with

his arms boldly circling Lyra's calves and burying his face in her thighs.

He was like a wounded and aggrieved beast, seeking comfort.

Lyra gently rubbed the back of his head, looking at his aggrieved look and feeling a little heartbroken.

But it was a demonstration of authority and a punishment for the mistakes he made the other day.

He was already healed from his injuries, and this was the least harmful and mildest method.

If she was soft, then she would fall short of success for lack of a final effort, and those sermons would

be waste of time.

Thinking of this, she was ruthless and patted his shoulder, "How can you be like this? Bend your knees

90 degrees, straighten your back, good boy! Kneel for 30 minutes first."