After divorce I am a billionaire

The moment when he realized what happened, he hurriedly begged her and re-answered.

"Honey, don't get me wrong. | didn't mean to say you're heavy. You're so light, like a feather, and your figure is so good. | can't stop loving you. | can't help myself." He looked at Lyra nervously.

Lyra still stared at him solemnly, not speaking.

Malcolm looked at her and was confused. Did he get the wrong answer again? He didn't understand what other right answer there was? Seeing Lyra's face getting colder and colder, he hurriedly begged for mercy, "Honey, can you tell me the answer you have in mind?" Lyra grunted twice in condescension, "Yeah, how about when we get back to the bedroom, I'll teach you word for word with the ruler?" His back instantly stiffened slightly.

Lyra pouted, mentioned his first answer and listed his crimes in all seriousness.

"The unthinking answer is the truest picture of your heart, which means that's how you think." "I'm just wearing a long gown, and you think | am heavy." "| give you two small babies. | am the greatest contributor of the White family. You dare to dislike me so soon? When we're back, you should really be punished." He restrained his uneasiness and walked steadily through the winding alleyways and asked carefully, "How do you want me to be punished?" Lyra's starry eyes looked sly and scheming as she stared at him, "You deserve a spanking!" Glancing at his gradually pale face, she added in a very bad way, "And, with your pants down." The tips of his ears instantly turned red. He looked at her in an aggrieved way, and whispered, "Babe..." He stopped walking, not daring to go back home.

If he would face the punishment after they were back home, he could not accept this cruel fact! Lyra was amused by his expression. In fact, she wasn't angry and was just joking.

She nudged the tip of his nose with her finger.

"Well, | won't beat you up. And | won't make fun of you. Because of my pregnancy and recuperation, you have suffered for a long time. Tonight, I'll compensate you well." Malcolm's aggrieved expression faded away and he smiled.

"Be prepared. It's been a long time since I've not had sex with you. | won't let you off easy tonight.” He went faster and wanted to fly straight back to the bedroom.

He was so excited to go home.

* The night was cold.

All the cheerful and wonderful sounds were masked inside the locked windows.

For how many times in total, Lyra could not remember.

She just knew that Malcolm did not get tired.

By the time the next morning, Lyra's little waist really couldn't sustain that.

Her whole body was sore and weak, and with almost no rest last night, she couldn't get up at all.

Malcolm woke up early in the morning, helped her postpone having to talk to Horace about the contract, and reached out to take her into his arms.

"Honey, I've taken care of all your business, so you can sleep all day." Lyra was indeed very sleepy and could not keep her eyelids open. She was very depressed why she had agreed to Malcolm's request. Or last night, she should have limited him.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep, but kept regretting for last night's events.

A pair of large palms silently held her waist from behind. Malcolm, being restless, kissed her earlobe again and again and implied the ambiguous meaning.

Lyra frowned slightly. With her eyes tightly closed, she ignored him.

Malcolm was getting more and more reckless, and his hands started to roam restlessly on her body.

And his thin lips, which were kissing her earlobe, moved down tentatively to kiss the back of her neck, and then the slender and fair shoulder ...

Lyra's eyebrows were getting tighter and tighter, and finally she couldn't stand it anymore. She turned back and pressed his whole face with one of her hands.

"Stop. No more noise and rest." She was exhausted and her voice was soft, but her tone was very dignified.

Malcolm was instantly deflated and resigned himself to lying on top of her. His magnetic and low voice was nevertheless tentative, "Honey, how about three hours of sleep and do it at twelve o'clock sharp?" Her back was very sore that it was about to break.

Malcolm, who had completely recovered from his illness, had not had sex with her for eleven months. And he was like a hungry wolf that could not get enough.

She regretted a bit how she found such an energetic man to be her husband.

Was it too late to kick him out? She thought glumly as he didn't get an answer and his hands under the quilt started to get restless again and kept roaming over her skin.

"You're not tired at all?" "It's exhausting and happy at the same time. Doubling happiness!" Malcolm took his face to rub her delicate cheek.

Lyra ground her back teeth. Her mind was filled with nothing but endless fatigue. Not feeling a hint of pleasure at all, she had an idea in order to drain Malcolm's exuberant strength.

"Since you're not tired, roll over and get out of bed and do at least five hundred and twenty push-ups. Count as you do." Malcolm's movements stopped and he froze slightly, "Why five hundred and twenty?" She didn't change her facial expression, "Show your love for me as a little gift from you." Since it was a gift, Malcolm couldn't refuse, not to mention that push-ups were not difficult for him.

He kissed on Lyra's cheek, quickly rolled out of bed and put on his pajama pants.

With his lean and good-looking upper body, he had his arms propped up on the carpet and did push-ups in a standard way.

On the bed, Lyra's voice came lazily, "Remember to count.” Then, Malcolm effortlessly shouted, "One." "Two." "Three." Lyra fell asleep from exhaustion at the sound of his counting.

Then she was again woken up by the sound of Malcolm's counting.

However, after barely catching up on an hour or so of sleep, she was much more relaxed and half leaned over the bed to quietly watch Malcolm doing push-ups on the carpet.

"Three hundred and fifty-six." Malcolm's voice was noticeably less crisp and slightly more strained than it was at the beginning.

He was soaked in a thin layer of sweat. Many places of the carpet beneath him was stained by his sweat and the color got darker.

Lyra called a halt, "Are you tired?" Malcolm took a deep breath and smiled at her, "It's okay." He said okay again. Did he like being okay that much? She suddenly had an evil idea of fixing him. So she got out of bed holding her waist and pulled the robe on the coat rack to cover her beautiful body.

Then she walked towards Malcolm and sat cross-legged on his ass.

In this way, her whole body weight was on Malcolm.

With last night's sex plus more than 300 push-ups, Malcolm was actually very tired. When Lyra sat up on him, his entire body was lowered a little bit obviously.

Lyra had her arms crossed, and looked askance at the back of his head, "Go on." Malcolm gritted his teeth and continued his push-up exercise, but he didn't make a sound.

Lyra noticed, "No more counting?" Being slightly confused, he asked, "How many did | just do?" Three hundred and fifty-six.

Lyra vaguely remembered as if she heard him recite this number, but she smiled, "How should | know? Since you forgot, let's start over." Malcolm's back stiffened. It was so tormenting.

He simply plopped his whole body down on the carpet and made a scene, accusing her, "You're so bad. Enslave me and make fun of me. | still want to save some energy to do you at noon." He was so tired, and he still wanted to have sex? Lyra's face quickly turned gloomy as she put her palms together and slapped him viciously on the side of his hip.

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