The Billionaire’s Secret Obsession (Grace and Owen) novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Grace felt like she had been struck by lightning.

The next second, Owen shoved Hannah away, his face clouded with fury.

"Hannah, are you losing your damn mind again?"

Under the lights, it was clear she wasn't wearing a bra. Her curves shifted with her movements, every line barely hidden.

She collapsed onto the couch, laughing like it was a game. "What are you so scared of? You can't fake what your body wants. Tell me, does your sweet little wife get you this worked up?"

Hannah approached with a grin, her pale fingers drifting down to his belt buckle.

"Look at this. Proof. Don't you need to think of me every time to get hard?"

Owen's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. His hand lifted, fingertips brushing her hair briefly, then his palm clenched. He forced the emotion down.

"You're right. But we can't cross that line."

Grace had seen it all. Every second of it. And in her ears, it sounded like thunder.

She didn't even know how she had made it back to the bedroom. Her whole body felt like ice. She crawled under the blankets and curled up, trying to find some warmth, some comfort.

But no matter how tightly she wrapped herself, she couldn't unseen what had happened.

She had no idea how much time had passed before she felt a warm body press against her from behind. His arousal dug into her, heavy and insistent. His breath, hot and ragged, brushed against her ear.

Grace went rigid. It took her a few seconds to gather herself before she grabbed Owen's hand, stopping him.

Her voice was tense. "I'm tired. I'm not in the mood."

But he didn't stop. He pinned her wrists down and took her anyway, rougher, more desperate than ever before.

Just as she was about to reach the edge, everything went black.

Owen's hand suddenly covered her face. The move dragged her straight into a freezing abyss.

And then, Hannah's words echoed in her head. "Don't you need to think of me every time just to get hard?"

It hit her like a slap in the face.

She remembered now. Every single time they had sex, Owen would always cover her face with his hand. Now she understood why. He wasn't picturing her. He was picturing Hannah.

As the last wave of pleasure tore through him, Grace shut her eyes. A single tear slid from the corner.

Owen felt the wetness in his palm. His face froze for a second, like something sharp had pierced through his chest.

He softened his movements and murmured, "I'm sorry."

But a meaningless apology like that couldn't fix anything.

Grace didn't say a word. Her tears kept falling in silence.

He stared at her for a long time. His expression was complicated and hard to read. But in the end, just like always, he went to the shower and left the room.

That night, Grace didn't sleep. She laid there with her eyes wide open until morning.

When the alarm went off, she grabbed her phone and sent a message to Leila Morgan, who was on vacation.

"Leila, did you know Hannah's back?"

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