Summer’s POV

Fire. My whole body was on fire, and I couldn’t make it stop. Through the haze of whatever they’d slipped into my drink, I was vaguely aware of being carried—strong arms cradling me, the steady rhythm of footsteps.

“So hot,” I whimpered, pressing my face against the cool fabric of his suit. My skin felt like it was trying to crawl off my body. Everything hurt. Everything burned. “Please… make it stop.”

The arms around me tightened, his grip flexing against my trembling body, but he didn’t say a word. Even through the drug’s grip, I could feel the coiled tension in him—his chest hard against my side, his breath steady. My hands clawed weakly at his jacket, fingers fumbling for anything to anchor me as the heat pulsed lower, pooling wet and insistent between my thighs.

We were moving again—door opening, shoes clicking on hardwood—then the world lurched as he shifted me in his arms. I heard water running, a distant roar, and then—oh fuck—ice-cold water slammed into my overheated skin. I gasped, my body jerking violently, tits straining against the soaked fabric of my dress as I tried to scramble away from the shock. But his hands—big, unyielding—pinned me down, one gripping my waist, the other clamping my shoulder, forcing me back into the tub.

“Stay still!” His deep voice brooked no argument.

I shook my head frantically, my body fighting against both the drug’s heat and the water’s chill. “Cold… too cold…” My nipples hardened painfully under the drenched fabric, poking out like they were begging for attention, and I couldn’t tell if it was the ice or the way his fingers dug into me that made me squirm.

I heard him speaking into what must have been a bluetooth earpiece, his voice sharp and commanding. “James. I need ice. Every piece you can find. Bring it to my suite. Now.”

There was a pause as he listened to the response. “Immediately, James.”

The water kept rising, lapping at my hips, my shivering uncontrollable. I knew this had to be saving me—had to be—but my body didn’t give a shit about reason. It craved escape, craved him. His hand slid from my shoulder to my forehead, checking my temperature, and the touch was like a live wire—electric, jolting through me. I arched hard against him, a needy moan slipping out as my chest pressed into his arm, my wetness soaking through my panties and mingling with the water.

“Please,” I begged.

He didn’t reply, but one of his hands moved to my forehead, checking my temperature. The touch sent an electric shock through my system, and I arched involuntarily, seeking more contact with his cooler skin.

Minutes that felt like hours passed before I heard a quick, efficient knock at the door. Mr. Stark’s hands never left me as he called out, “Enter.”

“The ice, sir,” James’s voice was professionally crisp.

“Leave it there. Go.”

The door shut, and I heard the clatter of ice hitting the tub, the water turning arctic as he dumped it in. I yelped, trying to claw my way out, my nails scraping his forearm, but he caught me effortlessly. One arm hooked under my tits, pressing them up as he yanked me back, the other hand sliding down to grip my thigh, fingers dangerously close to where I was dripping wet and aching.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice carrying an odd note of gentleness that seemed at odds with his forceful grip. “It’ll be over soon.”

I didn’t know how long it lasted—me thrashing against him, half-sobbing, half-moaning as the ice bit into my skin and the drug pulsed in my cunt. His chest pressed against my back now, his breath hot on my neck as he held me down, and I could feel the hard line of his cock through his pants, brushing my ass every time I moved. At some point, tears mixed with the water, my body a trembling mess of fire and frost, and I didn’t care—I just wanted him to touch me, to make it stop or make it worse, anything.

Eventually, the burning began to fade, replaced by bone-deep exhaustion. My struggles weakened, then stopped entirely. The last thing I remember was his voice, low and reassuring: “Sleep now. You’re safe.”

Looking down, I realized I was completely naked. My heart rate spiked as I quickly pulled the silky sheets up to cover myself. I did a careful self-assessment. No soreness, no marks, nothing to suggest… I took a deep breath. Okay. Okay. Let’s think this through.