Stripping For My Devil Ex Husband

​Ana gritted her teeth, her internal resistance flaring up despite her fear. "I was hungry, Damian. The food smelled good, so I came down. Am I not even allowed to feed myself?"

​A slow, predatory smirk played on Damian’s lips. He leaned back in his leather chair, his large frame radiating an absolute, crushing dominance.

​"You may feed yourself when I allow it," he purred, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. He reached over, lifting the silver cover from the tray to reveal a plate of fluffy eggs, thick cut bacon, and fresh berries. The aroma hit Ana’s nose, making her mouth water.

​She instinctively reached out to take the plate but before her fingers could touch the porcelain, Damian’s large hand snapped out, gripping her wrist firmly. He didn’t hurt her... but his hold was an iron strong.

​"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the floor right beside his knees.

​Ana’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "What? On the floor? I am not a dog, Damian!"

​"I didn’t say you were a dog. I said you are my slave," Damian corrected coldly, his grip on her wrist tightening just enough to send a shiver of submission down her spine. His dark eyes promised absolute ruin if she fought him. "And right now, your training for the day begins. Down."

​Her knuckles turned white. Every ounce of her pride screamed at her to turn around and walk away but she had no money, no job and a one hundred million dollar noose around her neck. Her stomach let out another hollow, agonizing growl.

Fuck it!

​Reluctantly, her lower lip trembling with a mixture of rage and humiliation, Ana lowered herself to her knees, sitting back on her heels right beside his polished leather shoes.

​Damian let go of her wrist, looking down at her like a king looking at a conquered subject. He picked up a piece of crisp, warm bacon from the plate... but instead of handing it to her, he brought it to his own lips, taking a slow, deliberate bite.

​Ana stared at the food, her chest heaving as the intense, suffocating proximity tore at her sanity.

​Damian chewed slowly, his gaze locked onto her burning face. He held the remaining piece of food just inches away from her lips, his scent of expensive cologne and raw masculinity wrapping around her senses, triggering a sudden, heavy ache deep in her lower stomach.

She hated how intensely her body reacted to his sheer presence.

​"You want to eat, Ana?" Damian murmured, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip, forcing it open slightly. "Then ask for it. Properly."

​Ana clenched her fists against her thighs. "Just give me the food, Damian."

​"Wrong answer," he whispered, his voice smooth and lethal as he moved the food slightly further away. "Say the word, Anastasia. Beg the Devil for your nourishment. Say ’Please, Master.’"

​The words felt like pure poison.

Ana stared at him, a fierce war raging inside her chest. She wanted to bite his hand, to scream at him, to fight the terrifying pulling sensation of submission that was rapidly melting her defenses.

But her body was weak, her hunger was real, and the sheer, dominating heat radiating from him was making her lightheaded.

​She looked up into his bottomless dark eyes, her voice cracking into a fragile, breathless whisper.

​"Please..." she choked out, her face burning with a mixture of humiliation and a sudden, shameful thrill. "Please, Master... feed me."

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room as the forbidden word hung in the air.

​Master.

​Anastasia’s chest heaved, her heart hammering so violently she was certain Damian could hear it. She hated herself for saying it, hated the absolute defeat it represented, but most of all, she hated the dangerous, illicit thrill that had shot straight to her core the moment the word left her lips.

​Just as Damian’s eyes darkened with a predatory satisfaction, the sharp, intrusive buzz of his phone broke the heavy tension.

​Damian didn’t break eye contact with her as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the device. He glanced at the screen, a brief, cold flicker of annoyance crossing his sharp features.

Instead of standing up to answer it, he slowly shifted, crouching down to her level on the floor.

​The proximity became instantly overwhelming. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his broad chest, trapping her against the edge of the dining table.

​Holding the remaining piece of crisp, warm bacon right before her trembling lips, his voice dropped into a low, absolute murmur. "Open your mouth."

​Ana’s breath caught. Under the suffocating weight of his gaze, her lips parted helplessly.

Damian slid the food onto her tongue, his fingers brushing against her lips with a heavy, possessive touch that made a sudden ache pool low in her stomach.

​As she chewed, Damian didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in even closer. His eyes closed for a fraction of a second as he deeply inhaled the soft, vanilla scent of her skin and hair, completely consuming her space.

​He leaned forward until his lips brushed agonizingly against her burning cheek, his hot breath sending a violent, electric shiver straight down her spine.

​"Finish everything on that tray," Damian commanded against her skin, his deep baritone sending a vibration through her very bones. "And then you will go back upstairs and wait for my next command."

​He pulled back just enough to look down into her wide, dazed eyes, his lips curving into a lethal, promising smirk as his phone continued to buzz in his hand.

​"And remember, Ana... the next command is not going to be this easy for you."

​Without waiting for her response, Damian stood up in one fluid, imposing motion. He pressed the phone to his ear, his voice instantly reverting back to its cold, corporate edge as he walked toward the grand double doors. "Speak."

​The doors clicked shut behind him, leaving Anastasia alone on the floor. Her body was trembling, her face flushed with a dangerous mixture of humiliation and undeniable arousal.

He hadn’t even touched her intimately yet, but she was already hyper-aware that her resistance was slowly crumbling under his dark, unyielding rule.

What is happening to me?

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