Forever His Favorite (Possessive Billionaires, Precious Sweethearts #3)

Chapter 1 Beg Me For Money

Emily sat with Sebastian in her bedroom, her fingers trapped in his large, warm hand.

His touch was slow, almost hypnotic, his thumb caressing her skin.

She tried to pull back, but his grip only tightened, drawing her closer until his arm slid firmly around her waist. With one swift move, he pulled her onto his lap, his other hand locking around her wrist to keep her there.

Her breath hitched as her back pressed against his chest.

Turning her head to the side, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye and asked, “Why did you transfer all your money to my name?” Her voice wavered, curiosity threaded with disbelief. Then a teasing edge crept into her tone as she added, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll run away with all your money?”

Sebastian’s eyes never left her face. The corners of his lips twitched, amusement glinting in his gaze as she continued.

“What if I control all of it?” she pressed, trying to provoke him further. “What if I make you beg me for money?”

His body shook with laughter, his chest vibrating under her back. She felt every ripple of it, warmth spreading through her as she bit her lip to hide her own smile. She couldn’t explain it, but hearing him laugh—because of her—filled her with a joy she couldn’t contain.

Sebastian’s hold around her waist tightened as he leaned in closer. “All of the money I gave you is what I made with my own hands. And everything I’ve built already belongs to my wife. So, if I have to beg my wife for money one day, I’ll do it without shame.”

His voice dipped, husky and low, brushing against her ear as he buried his face into her neck. His lips grazed the sensitive skin just below her ear, and he pressed a soft kiss there before murmuring, “There are a lot more things I wouldn’t mind begging my wife for.”

Her face flamed red, heat rushing to her cheeks at the unmistakable meaning in his tone.

Clearing her throat hurriedly, she tried to mask her embarrassment with excitement. “Alright then, I’ll be the rich woman. I’ll support you in the future!” She wiggled her hand free from his grip, gesturing animatedly—only for him to catch it again, enclosing her smaller hands within his own.

His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands, slow and tender, his touch leaving shivers trailing up her arms. His gentleness was disarming, his fingers tracing invisible patterns that made her pulse quicken.

Then his lips returned to her neck, this time trailing lower, grazing down from the shell of her ear toward her collarbone. Each brush sent sparks rushing through her, and she shivered, her breath uneven. The growing heat in her body made her squirm.

Her cheeks burned hotter. Panic flared. Abruptly, Emily pushed herself out of his lap, yanking her hand free before he could stop her.

“I’m just going to… grab my brother’s pajamas for you,” she stammered, her words tumbling over themselves. Without daring to look back, she hurried out of the room.

An hour later, the bathroom door opened. Sebastian emerged, fresh from the shower, clad in a pair of brand new trousers and T-shirt Emily had stolen from Adam’s closet. His damp hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water still sliding down the ridges of his chest.

As he walked further into the room, he tugged the shirt off in one smooth motion and tossed it carelessly aside. “We aren’t really going to need these clothes, baby,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through the room. His eyes lifted, locking onto hers.

Emily’s breath caught. Her gaze betrayed her, falling helplessly to his chest. His muscles glistened faintly under the light, water dripping down his abs before disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. Her throat tightened as her cheeks burned with shame for staring.

She didn’t even realize he had crossed the room until suddenly, he was right in front of her.

Two strides. That’s all it took.

In a blur, Sebastian was in front of her. His arms slid beneath her hips, lifting her with ease. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, a gasp escaping her lips as her body pressed flush against his. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears.

“Don’t—don’t do this,” she whispered, her voice trembling, breathless. “My brother’s room is on this very floor!”

Sebastian carried her to the bed anyway, his stride unhurried. He laid her down carefully, but immediately climbed over her, caging her in. His face dipped into her neck, lips trailing hungrily over her flushed skin.

His voice, low and husky, brushed against her ear as he whispered, “That just means you’re not allowed to make any noise tonight.”

***

Sebastian’s car rolled to a stop in front of his house. It was already past ten in the morning, but instead of heading straight to work from Emily’s home, Sebastian had asked the driver to bring them here first, wanting to drop Emily off before continuing his day.

As the car came to a halt, Sebastian stepped out first. The morning sun caught the edge of his suit, gleaming against the sharp lines of his shoulders. He moved around the car with his usual calm strides and opened the door for her.

Emily quickly gathered her bag and phone from the seat, her fingers brushing against the cool leather as she stepped out to join him. Together, they walked up the stone path toward the front door, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet of the late morning.

Sebastian pressed his thumb against the biometric lock. The soft click of the mechanism was almost lost beneath the sudden shrill of Emily’s ringtone.

She glanced down at the screen.

Her breath stalled.

Lucas.

Her eyes flickered upward, meeting Sebastian’s. He was holding the door open, but his gaze was fixed on her phone screen. His eyes darkened instantly, sharp with a glare that made her tense in an instant.

Leaving the door ajar, Sebastian walked inside without a word. Emily rushed after him, her pulse pounding. Her phone kept buzzing relentlessly. She silenced the call, only for it to start ringing again and again without pause.

“Why the hell is this button not working?” she muttered in frustration, fumbling to cut the call. The phone seemed frozen, mocking her as Lucas’s name flashed again and again.

So focused on her struggle, she didn’t notice that Sebastian had stopped walking. She collided with his back, her forehead bumping his shoulder before she stumbled back.

He turned around. The phone was still blaring, Lucas’s name flashing.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened as they flicked from the screen back to her face. Emily forced a sheepish, tense smile, but inside her thoughts were spiraling.

‘I deleted his contact. I even blocked him. Why the hell is his name still flashing?’ she thought bitterly. ‘Damn this stupid caller ID app… as if I needed more trouble right now. In front of this demon of all people.’

Panic clawed at her chest. ‘Maybe if I just smash this stupid thing against the wall and end it here…’

She lifted her hand high, ready to hurl the phone, but in her panic, her thumb brushed the green button instead. The call connected. Her stomach dropped.

Her heart dropped. “Oh, no…” she whispered, breath coming faster, chest tight with anxiety.

Before she could react, Sebastian’s hand shot out. He caught her wrist, twisting it just enough to snatch the phone from her grasp.

He held the phone up, his eyes locking on hers. The silent command was clear: Talk.

Her heart thumped wildly as he towered over her, like a teacher staring down at a guilty student.

On the other end, a man’s voice came through.

“This is Dillon,” he said.

Emily stayed quiet, lips pressed together, until Dillon continued, “Miss Crawford, could you please come see Mr. Cantrell at the hospital? He’s very sick.”

Emily blinked at the phone, then frowned, “I don’t have anything to do with Lucas anymore. Why would I go see him?”

“Miss Crawford,” Dillon’s tone was pleading.

“I know you’re upset about the situation with Miss Amelia, and because Mr. Cantrell announced her as his fiancée.

But right now he’s gravely ill. He’s already agreed to drop the project and cut ties with Miss Amelia.

In fact, he plans to tell the media it was all just a misunderstanding—a PR stunt.

He’ll make it clear he never had anything to do with Miss Amelia.

The only woman he’s ever been involved with… is you.”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered toward Emily. Panic and suspicion burned in them as he searched her face, his grip on the phone tightening, gaze boring into her as though he could read every thought.

“Miss Crawford,” Dillon pressed on, “you’ve always been so considerate. You know him better than anyone. You’ve spent five years with him. You know he has always loved you. Only you.”

Emily almost rolled her eyes. Her face fell flat with disbelief. A string of curses burned at her tongue, but she swallowed them, fury still simmering. With a snap, she snatched the phone from Sebastian’s hand.

Her voice shook with rage as she spat into the receiver, “And I’m telling you, your boss isn’t made of gold! I’m not going to treasure him for life just because I wasted five years on him. Why the hell does he think I’ll forgive everything he’s done just because of those five years?”

Silence fell for a moment on the other end. Then came shuffling noises, hurried movement, voices overlapping in commotion.

And then, Lucas’s voice came through the line, conflicted and tense.

“You wanted to get married at the Palace in Italy, right? You wanted a wedding dress by Dior. I can give you everything— the best marriage. Emily, the only reason I agreed to that project with Amelia, the only reason I announced her as my fiancée, was because I wanted to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

All my money, my success— it’s all for you. Everything I did was for you!”

His words tumbled out frantically, breathless, as though he was fighting against time itself, desperate to pour out everything he hadn’t said to Emily before.

Emily let out a harsh scoff, anger twisting her features. “Lucas, I can have everything I want in life without you. I don’t need your luxuries. And I’ll say it again—we’re over. Stop contacting me again and again.”

She hung up before he could reply, her finger stabbing the screen. Immediately, she deleted his number, erased the call log, anything to avoid seeing his name again.

But Sebastian’s burning stare lingered on her, making her chest tighten with unease.

He said nothing, his silence heavier than words. Inside his head, a dangerous thought flickered.

‘If I give you a wedding at that Palace in Italy, if I give you that Dior dress… will you be happy?’

Emily, unaware of his thoughts, felt her anxiety spiral under his penetrating stare. She quickly blurted out, “I deleted his number just now. I promise, I won’t contact him again.”

Sebastian’s eyes sharpened further. He stepped forward, closing the space between them, and lifted her chin firmly between his fingers. His voice dropped, sharp as a blade.

“Why didn’t you remind him you’re already married? You don’t want to?”

Emily flinched, her lips parting in an awkward laugh. “I just… I haven’t gotten used to calling myself your wife all the time yet.”

Sebastian’s hand slid from her chin to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin.

The platinum ring on his finger caught the light from the chandelier above—the same ring she had given him years ago.

Possessiveness flickered across his gaze.

His eyes locked on hers, dark and hungry, as memories crashed into him.

He was ten, kidnapped by goons. Somehow, he had escaped, running through the streets, when Emily had stumbled across him. She had pulled out the ring from the chain around her neck and pressed it into his hand.

“This will help you get home. My mom gave this to me. She always says this ring will keep me safe. My mom never lies. You’ll be okay—I promise.”

He had clutched that ring all the way to the police station, all the way home, never once forgetting her.

And years later, when Adam introduced them, he recognized her instantly. But before he could confess, she had already chosen Lucas. The memory still made his blood boil.

Now, standing in front of her, the past and present collided.

His hand slid to the back of her head, pulling her closer, his body advancing until her spine pressed against the wall.

He caged her in, every inch of him overwhelming her space, his face lowering until she could feel his breath ghosting over her lips.

His voice came out rough, edged with a desperation he couldn’t hide.

“Do you really not remember me?”

Emily blinked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

Displeasure darkened his gaze. His grip on her cheek tightened as he lowered his head, lips brushing dangerously close to hers.

“In that case,” he murmured, his tone deadly and low, “I’ll make sure you remember me forever.”