After divorce I am a billionaire

Lyra gasped.

Just now when he changed his clothes, he left a underpants at least.

In this case, she'll feel hot to watch.

The bubble bath meant that he was going to be naked! She didn't guarantee that she can hold this.

So she was trying to find an excuse to refuse when Malcolm quickly said, "It's just a bath, Rara. If | don't get this, I'll be so sick and I'll have angina!" He said this and his eyes looked melancholy, with his hand gripping his heart and his leaning in her arms.

Lyra sighed helplessly. Since Malcolm's illness can't be hidden anymore, he was getting better and better at using it.

She was sometimes convinced by it.

"Don't pretend. I'll prepare water for you." He smiled quietly.

Lyra got up and went to the bathroom. Then she turned up the temperature of the bathroom heater, helped him fill the tub, squeezed the shower gel and stirred the bubbles in the water.

When the bathroom was warm, Lyra called out to him, "It's ready. Come on in." Malcolm stepped into the bathroom, wearing a new cotton nightgown bought by Lyra.

Lyra tried the water temperature again and it was just right.

Turning her head, he was still standing frozen in place, like a piece of wood.

"Why don't you take off your clothes yet?" Malcolm half lifted his arm, with fingers hanging and his dark eyes staring at her, "No strength in my hands ..." "Bullshit!" Lyra lowered her face and quickly stripped him naked, gritting her teeth, "While you're sick now, I'll spoil you. When you get well, just wait and see!" Malcolm heard what she said. His whole body was powerless and fell on her, with his chin resting on her shoulder, "You scold me. | am afraid | can't recover..." "Nonsense!" Lyra stared at him, sulking. And she pinched him hard on his elastic and bare buttocks behind him.

He hissed lightly in pain, buried his face into her shoulder, and quietly restrained all the bitter emotions.

Lyra straightened his body and lifted his face with both hands. She looked serious and said emphatically, "Malcolm, I'm here! At no time will you give up hope of living!" She will, for sure, keep him healthy and alive! Whatever, at what cost! Malcolm felt bitter.

To comfort Lyra, he smiled and nodded. Then he changed the subject by grabbing her small hand and putting it between his legs.

He smiled evilly, "Do you like it?" Lyra gently squeezed it, felt it carefully and nodded, "Well, soft and cute." Momentarily, Malcolm wrinkled his brows, was demoralized once again.

Cute? For men, this word was to describe girls who were petite! It was not cute. It was fierce! Lyra felt his sad emotion and lightly sipped his thin lips, "It's just cute at this moment. | know you're great. When you're better, then prove it to me?" He didn't say anything, and his heart barely felt better.

From now on, he wanted seven times a night! Ten days and ten nights! Lyra helped him sit in the bubble-filled tub, wetting his shoulders and neck, covering his honey-colored and sensual skin with the snowy bubbles.

"Soak for 15 minutes, and I'll come in later to rub your back." She took a clean towel to wipe her hands clean and turned to go out, but her wrist was suddenly clutched by the man in the bathtub and brought with force in his direction.

"You have to soak together to get warm!" Lyra was unprepared and couldn't handle his sudden force, so she fell backwards, caught off guard and fell into the bathtub.

Malcolm was prepared, and with his other palm he steadied her little bottom, easing the force of her fall.

With his palm cushioned, Lyra's body didn't make a particularly big splash when it was submerged in the tub.

But the original water level line that was put in place, because of the two people, instantly diffused out with the sound of clattering.

Lyra looked down, glanced at her soaked silk robe and gritted her teeth as she glared at him.

"Malcolm! What the hell?" He slumped back, leaning lazily with his arms resting on the edges of the tub on either side.

It was as if he was saying "I'll wait for you to fix me!" "It's feeling good if | am fixed by you in the bathroom!" When he said this, he raised his eyebrows lightly and smiled evilly.

Lyra rolled her eyes at him arrogantly.

Dignity was something good! She hoped someone could pick it up! Seeing that Lyra was not paying attention to him, Malcolm's long eyelashes dropped and he reluctantly squeezed his abs.

Double check.

The abs were still there, still eight! Then why ...

He was a little aggrieved, "Rara, I'm still as good as before! You've been abstinent for a long time. Don't you want to try it?" The mist rising from the bathtub tinted his handsome face with a haze.

His firm and honey-colored skin was stained with bubbles. His long and curly eyelashes were wet with droplets of water, and those deep and dark eyes glowed with a shimmering light as they stared expectantly at Lyra.

Lyra closed her eyes, didn't look at him, and took a deep breath.

She knew that he was going to start getting restless as soon as he found the opportunity.

She shouldn't have agreed to help him with the bath! She almost fell into his trap again! She kept admonishing herself.

Malcolm was ill! 1! 111! Don't touch! It can not be spoiled! While she kept taking deep breaths, Malcolm didn't stay idle either.

His hands, which were concealed under the bubbles, crept up to her.

Wandering, touching, teasing ...

Lyra's eyelashes fluttered uncontrollably, and her ears flushed under his teasing.

She put up with it again and again, and she couldn't stand it! "Malcolm! Your hands are so restless. I'll remove them for you!" She turned and grabbed a wooden bath brush from the shelf, glaring at him with anger and menace.

Ten minutes later.

The bathroom was thick with fog, lingering in the haze, and the atmosphere was a bit unusual.

Lyra put down the wooden bath brush and let out a long breath.

She beat his palms and he was not restless at all. Finally, she felt relived! But Malcolm was not so good.

He gazed at his hands and carefully helped himself to huff the red and swollen marks.

Lyra just glanced coldly at his palms and concentrated on rubbing his back.

It was the first time that Lyra didn't calm Malcolm down immediately after he was beaten up.

His chest was suffocating and uncomfortable.

A strong reluctance drove him to half-raise his hands and to pass his palms to Lyra.

A silent accusation was made.

He was in pain! Lyra sulked, pretending not to understand, and gave him a cold stare, "Didn't you get enough? Want another twenty?" She made a gesture to get the bath brush.

Malcolm immediately withdrew his hands and hid them in the water, obediently lowering his head and not moving.

It was a torture.

However, he could do nothing about it! Lyra didn't know what he was thinking, but was relieved to see that he had finally stopped teasing.

When he behaved well, he was pleasing to her eyes! After rubbing her back, she glanced at the shampoo next to her, squeezed some into her hand and then rubbed it onto his head.

She massaged his head in a rude way, as if he was a dog.

Malcolm frowned, "Be gentle." Lyra was unhappy, "Are you ordering me? This is my style. You can choose not to wash your hair!" "Fine ..." Malcolm held back his emotion and resisted the uncomfortable force at her mercy.

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