Chapter 285 Unpredictable, and Malcolm collapses
Chapter 285 Unpredictable, and Malcolm collapses
She patted his back, carefully soothing him.
It took a few minutes of coaxing before she said, "Is it still painful?"
Malcolm nodded with a feeble look on his face, but pretending to be strong.
"It's okay to have you around."
Lyra secretly admired his pretentious appearance, helped him to lie down, put up the pillow and tucked
him in.
"It just delayed for more than half of an hour. You haven't taken your evening medicine. Wait for me for
a while. I'll go get it for you."
"Okay."
Within two minutes, Lyra placed a glass of warm water and pills on the bedside table, and she closed
the door before sitting back down on the edge of the bed.
Malcolm looked at the pile of pills and his dark eyes flashed bitterly, "Will I still have your feeding
service tonight?"
Lyra looked flat, handed him the glass of water and asked, "What do you think of your performance
tonight? Worthy of a reward?"
He instantly lowered his eyes in gloom, knowing himself to be at a disadvantage.
Tonight he was lucky not to get beaten, so he dared not to ask for a reward.
After hiding the unwillingness in his eyes, he took the glass of water handed by Lyra and had the
dozens of pills. Because he drank the water too quickly, he was choked and coughed.
Lyra hurriedly helped him rub his back and smooth his breath, whispering to rebuke: "Silly, you can
have two or three pills at a time. You have them all at once. No wonder you feel your mouth bitter."
She took out a packet of milk candy from her pocket, which she had bought for him specially today.
After tearing open the package, she took one out and put the rest on the bedside table.
The fair fingers gently twisted the candy paper and stuffed the candy into Malcolm's mouth, "Don't ever
harm your body like that again. If you feel the medicine is bitter, just take a candy. You want to use
cigarettes to relieve yourself. It's not practical and it hurts your body. Don't think like that again. You
hear me?"
"Yes."
Malcolm's voice was a little slurred as he tasted the candy in his mouth.
He savored the taste of the candy. It was very light, sweet and creamy, yet not cloyingly sweet.
Especially, this milk candy that Lyra bought personally. It was put into his mouth by Lyra personally and
his whole heart felt sweet.
While eating his candy, he opened his arms towards Lyra for a hug.
His previous cold and stern eyes looked bright now. In front of Lyra, they were not aggressive at all.
Because of the candy in his mouth, his cheeks were bulging. Unexpectedly, he looked a little soft and
cute.
Lyra shook her head with laughter and flicked his forehead, "You are five years older than me. When
you're eating the milk candy, you look like a three-year-old kid. Is this candy so delicious?"
Malcolm nodded his head.
"Then I'll try it too."
She turned to get one of the candies on the nightstand when Malcolm took her arm and pulled it toward
him. And his thin lips pressed hers.
Tongues intertwined.
The sweet, creamy scent tumbled between the two's breaths.
Malcolm: "Is it good?"
Lyra smiled in a sensual way, "Not bad."
Her fingertips brushed Malcolm's face again and her smile grew a little evil as she teased, "Now that
you have taken the medicine and tasted the candy. Shouldn't we deal with the next thing?"
Malcolm frowned, sensing that something unpleasant in her expression.
Lyra was not going to give him a chance to react. She got up, moved quickly to pull open the first
drawer of the bedside table and took out the whip inside.
The corners of her mouth raised and she had a teasing smile. Her aura was dominant, and her right
hand was holding the whip.
Malcolm stared in shock at the whip in her hand and instantly went pale. And the candy in his mouth
suddenly became not so sweet.
He went round and round. He struggled to go around in several circles, but he still had to be beaten?
One second before, he felt like he was in heaven, and the next second it was a hellish nightmare!
"Rara ..."Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
He clutched his palm and felt fairly collapsed, "I am wrong ..."
Lyra was not swayed by his speech, "Since you know you're wrong, you have to receive the
punishment. So that next time you'll learn a lesson. Reach out your hands."
Malcolm wrinkled his brows and inhaled. He did not move, knowing that he could not escape, so he
should not have taken a chance before for nothing.
Lyra's tone was serious, "Hmm?"
Under her staring gaze, Malcolm slowly extended his left hand, and the end of the whip immediately
rested on his palm, but she did not rush to strike it.
Lyra: "You hid the cigarettes. Anyway, I will not find out during the daytime because I have a lot of
things to do. You lied to me that the smoke is Chad's. Just now you ignored I will worry, trying to act to
avoid punishment. Then you tell me. How many times should I beat you?"
Malcolm's heart was cold.
It turned out that she had long seen that he was deliberately doing sad-fishing.
She knew it very clearly and she knew every mistakes he had made today.
"Talk to me. How many?"
Lyra touched his palm with the whip, trying to let him answer her question.
He bit the corner of his lip. His tone was frightened, and he replied tentatively, "Then... one?"
Lyra bow her face and said coldly and mercilessly, "One hundred!"
Malcolm's heart fluttered and he was forced to raise the stakes, "Five?"
Lyra's face remained unchanged, "Fifty."
The number was reduced by half at once. Malcolm seemed to have figured out her rule.
He continued to test, "Ten?"
Lyra paused for two seconds before answering, "Twenty."
Malcolm was barely able to accept the result, "Okay, twenty is fine. Here you go."
Lyra didn't move but gently raised her eyebrows, having a vicious smile.
"You're mistaken. My rule is, your number plus mine, so it's forty." She feigned surprise, "What a
coincidence! It just so happens that I counted four of your mistakes in detail. We tacitly understand!"
Malcolm looked at her in a daze, and felt collapsed on the spot!
That was so unpredictable!
His chest suffocated and he asked weakly, "With how much force?"
If he was beaten so hard as the last time, forty strokes in his left hand would make his hand ruined!
Lyra was serious, "This is the punishment. If I show mercy for you, you can't remember it."
Malcolm was utterly dissipated..
The end of the whip was still resting on the palm of his left hand, as if it can set off a sharp pain the
next moment. It got the deterrent force.
He lowered his head in defeat and inexplicably felt the tip of his nose sour.
Rara didn't care about him, not at all anymore ...
He was feeling depressed, and the whip had left his hand.
The next second, the whip quickly smashed into his hand with the sound of wind, one after another,
without giving him a chance to breathe.
Malcolm's fingertips trembled. His jawline tensed, and he fought the urge to retract his hand.
Although he felt very aggrieved, he still took it honestly.
The night was extraordinarily quiet.
The uninterrupted sound of the whip seemed a little horrible.
Lyra said she wouldn't let go, but when she did, she instinctively used less of her strength.
Each stroke hurt, but it was not as harsh as the last one.
After the punishment, Malcolm's left palm was swollen and slightly purple-red. Forty strokes together
were not as painful as the last five strokes.
Malcolm knew she hadn't hit him hard this time, but when he thought that she scared him seriously
beforehand, he complained, "I thought you really didn't care about me anymore."
Lyra cupped his left hand. Her soft lips kissed his hot palm little by little, gently and patiently.
In her own way, she was erasing all the hurt inside him.