My Cold Stepbrother is the Only Cure

Scarlett's POV

A remote vacation villa, the air thick with an overload of adult male hormones.

Late at night, my suppressants went missing.

The moment the medication wore off, my unspeakable "sex addiction" hit me with the most violent and fatal rebound I had ever experienced.

What was even more fatal was that the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was none other than my stepbrother, Ashton Reid—a man known for his absolute celibacy and cold, iron grip.

I had thought that once he saw me in this disgraceful, out-of-control state of heat, he would look at me in disgust and kick me away like a monster.

But he didn't.

This man, who usually couldn't even be bothered to spare me a second glance, was now radiating an oppressive heat as his large, calloused hand reached directly beneath my already-soaked skirt...

My heart stopped when I saw the man appearing at the door.

Ashton Reid. In a dark, custom-tailored suit with razor-sharp cuts. His icy blue eyes pierced through the crowd and pinned me down like nails.

He never touched women, never smiled, never attended parties. He was a living, breathing iceberg of abstinence.

And I suffered from a wildly rare form of hypersexuality.

In this villa, besides Jasper's girlfriend Valentina, the other eighteen people were all adult men bursting with testosterone. Every breath I took in this place was frantically stimulating my senses.

Without high-purity suppressants, it would be impossible for me to put on the mask of a "social queen" and function like a normal human being in this environment.

When I was sixteen, my mother brought me to his house for the first time. The moment his cold, cedarwood scent brushed against my nose, the curse was completely awakened. Since then, any male pheromones, even the slightest brush, would instantly turn me into a slave to my desires.

Right now, just being swept over by his cold gaze made a shameful heat flare up in my lower abdomen.

I hurriedly turned around, using the crowd as cover to reach into my bag for my pills.

Nothing.

The bottom of the bag was cold, holding only makeup.

I flipped the bag upside down, but the bottle was gone. A loud buzz echoed in my brain, and the cracks in my sanity instantly widened.

Just make it to the end of the party, lock yourself in the room, and tough it out, I told myself.

"Jesus! Ashton, you actually came?!"

Jasper threw himself forward to pat Ashton's shoulder, but Ashton dodged sideways, his posture as lofty and untouchable as ever.

"Change of plans!" Jasper yelled excitedly. "Twenty people, ten rooms. Ashton came late, so there are no rooms left!"

He hooked an arm over Ashton's shoulder and pointed at me:

"How about you squeeze in with Scarlett for the night? You guys are family anyway, just make do."

Those words were like a grenade tossed right into my face, blowing the mental defenses I had just built to dust.

I stared blankly at Ashton, waiting for him to flash his usual caustic sneer and tell me to get lost.

He didn't.

Instead, those bottomless eyes narrowed slightly, carrying an aggressive undertone that sent a chill down my spine.

"I don't mind."

His deep, husky voice was exceptionally clear in the dead-silent hall.

He actually agreed.

After the party dispersed, I dragged my stiff legs toward the last room at the end of the hallway like a prisoner heading to the gallows.

Click—the heavy door was locked from the inside.

I shrank into the corner of the sofa furthest from the large bed, like a trapped prey.

Without a word, Ashton took off his suit jacket, casually undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and walked straight into the bathroom without even glancing in my direction.

Soon, the dense sound of running water echoed out.

His unique, crisp scent of cedar and mint, wrapped in the hot steam escaping from the bathroom, frantically drilled into my nose through the crack of the door.

It was a lethal aphrodisiac.

My breathing grew heavy, and a flush of crimson quickly crept into the edges of my vision.

I desperately tried to think of his darkly cold face, his biting sarcasm, his ruthless attitude—trying to fight back the desire.

It was useless.

My out-of-control body was more violent than ever. The last lines of my sanity collapsed instantly.

Listening to the water, my mind uncontrollably conjured up the image: water sliding over his Adam's apple, down his full pecs, tracing the V-line into the towel...

"Mmph..."

I bit hard onto the back of my hand. The taste of blood exploded in my mouth, but it couldn't suppress the breathless, bordering-on-loss-of-control panting in my throat.

It was too hot; my organs felt like they were being incinerated by blazing fire.

I gripped my miniskirt, my knuckles turning white. Every tiny movement of the silky fabric created a deeper, more desperate pleasure.

Just as the wave of lust was about to swallow me whole—

The water stopped abruptly.

The bathroom door was pushed open.

Ashton, bare-chested, his muscles packed with explosive power and a white towel loosely wrapped around his waist, advanced toward me step by step.

I frantically grabbed my phone, pretending to look at the screen.

The moment the screen lit up, the late-night time pierced my heart like an ice pick—

It had been exactly eight hours since my last dose.

The medication was about to wear off completely.