Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 170

Chapter 170 Pinning Her Down

Baar lounged against the sofa cushions, his uniform jacket tossed aside. Two buttons of his shirt collar were undone, and his hair was a mess.

Margaret walked over and stopped by the coffee table. She asked, “Back?”

Baar looked at her with burning intensity. He pulled out a document from beside him and tossed it onto the coffee table.

“Take a look,” he said.

It was a paper document. In the Interstellar Era, that kind of old-school format was usually reserved for top-secret agreements of the highest level.

Margaret opened it to the first page.

It showed a title named Special Advisor to the Federal Military Council.

It sounded hollow, but the terms below got sharper line by line-a seat at every core Council decision, plus top-level clearance for all Federation military intelligence.

She flipped to the last page and raised an eyebrow.

The Aegis special ops team-full roster removed from the military chain and transferred directly to Margaret as her private force. All logistics and equipment upgrades were fully covered by the Federal Military

That was the same team that had been sent to the Valoran Galaxy to pick her up.

“Talk about pulling out all the stops.” Margaret tossed the papers back on the coffee table and sank down next to Baar. “Didn’t the Council have a stroke over you?”

Baar sneered, “They’re about to get themselves killed-why would they sweat the small stuff?”

The top tiers of the Council-those S-class and above members-were all constantly teetering on the edge of psychic rampage. Margaret, the only SSS-class female, was their last lifeline.

“I’m very satisfied,” Margaret said, leaning back. “But I still have to go to the royal family’s banquet in three days.”

Baar lounged on the sofa, sitting with his legs spread wide, his golden eyes fixed on her.

“You want to play both sides,” he said a statement, not a question.

Margaret met his gaze and asked calmly, “Why not?”

She had the leverage-why not use it all? She wanted everything.

Baar didn’t speak. He stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly leaned forward and reached out.

Before Margaret could react, she was pulled over and fell into his arms.

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“Baar!” she gasped, her hands pressing against his chest, palms feeling the warmth of his pectorals.

Baar wrapped his arm around her waist and pinned her on his lap. He lowered his head, his nose almost touching her face.

“My frenzy level went up,” he said in a hoarse voice, as if it were the most natural thing. “Need a purification.”

Margaret was speechless. He always used that excuse whenever the frenzy needed calming.

Before she could argue, Baar leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

His kiss was just like him-simple, rough, and unreasonable. He pried open her teeth and went straight in, stealing the air from her mouth.

Margaret gasped for air. She shoved at his shoulder, but he trapped both her wrists in one hand and pinned them behind her back. A muffled protest slipped out.

His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her up closer against him.

Then Margaret felt something cold slither up her calf.

Baar’s spirit beast-the little snake-was winding its way up her ankle, coiling around her leg. Its tongue flicked out now and then, grazing the tender skin behind her knee.

“Control your snake,” Margaret said, turning her head away, breathing hard through clenched teeth.

Baar followed her movement and bit her earlobe.

“I can’t control it,” he murmured, a hint of laughter in his voice. “It’s part of me. It needs purification, too.”

The little black snake kept slithering up along her inner thigh. The slick feeling made Margaret’s scalp tingle.

Baar’s hand grew restless, too-it slipped under her shirt, his fingertips grazing her side and sending a shiver through her.

“Don’t touch me there,” Margaret said, squirming.

Baar didn’t stop-if anything, he doubled down. He grabbed her waist and flipped them over, pinning her down on the wide sofa.

The room spun. Margaret’s back sank into the soft cushions. Baar bent one leg and pushed it between her thighs. The little black snake had already made its way up to her thigh.

Baar lowered his head, his warm lips landing on the side of her neck, then trailing down to her collarbone.

Margaret tilted her head back, her gaze drifting over Baar’s broad shoulder. She accidentally caught sight of the second floor.

On the second floor, a figure stood at the railing.

It was Cheiron.

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He wore that dark gray home knit sweater, his gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His arms were crossed, and he leaned against the railing with an easy posture.

He was looking down, watching the two of them tangled on the sofa. Not blinking.

His gray eyes gleamed coldly behind the lenses. He didn’t interrupt-just stood there watching silently.

Margaret’s scalp prickled. She shoved Baar off with everything she had.

Baar rolled over and sat up without pushing further. He straightened his messy shirt collar and let our a low chuckle.

Then he looked up at Cheiron on the second floor.

“Had

your fill?” Baar asked in a lazy tone, his provocation clear. “Mr. Jewett, do you also have a habit of peeping on other people’s make-out sessions?”

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