Page 19 of The Forbidden Summer (Pathfinders Lake #2)

Waylon

Holy shit. Van is in my arms. My grandson, my sweet boy, his body warm and soft beneath me, and I’m holding him close. In my bed.

I’ve dreamed of this moment, but… no, I never even dared to dream of this. It’s more than I could have hoped for.

The only reason I know I’m not dreaming is because he’s writhing and squirming like a horny boy, like my Van , pressing his hard dick against mine for relief.

“Père?”

His question hangs in the balance, unfinished. But I already know what he’s asking for.

“One step at a time, Van.” He tucks his face into my neck and breathes in my scent. The gesture wraps around my heart and squeezes like a fist. “This is a lot for me. For both of us. Let’s just take things slow.”

“So, no…”

His words sound muffled against my skin, and I swallow back laughter. “No, not today.”

Van peeks up at me, looking hopeful. Pleading. “Can I have your fingers, Cap?”

Jesus, Lord. This boy, with his innocence and appeal. I can’t help myself. I reach for his dick, hard beneath his briefs, and rub my palm over his length, ignoring the wet spot staining the cotton. I’m beginning to think my boy is a leaker, which makes my balls shrivel up tight just thinking of it.

Merdé , could he be any more perfect?

Van shimmies his slim hips, humping my hand.

His eyes look glassy with lust, his breath coming faster, more shallow as he gets worked up.

I press my lips to his chest, brushing them across his soft skin, feeling the heavy thump of his heart beneath my mouth.

With a deep inhale of his fresh, clean scent, I pepper him with kisses, some light, others open-mouthed and wet.

I wish I could devour him whole.

Taste every part of him.

Worship him like he deserves.

Someday, maybe. But for today, baby steps.

Van isn’t taking baby steps. He tugs his briefs down his hips, exposing his dick. His plump, smooth balls lie tight against his body.

If I don’t put my mouth on them, I’ll die.

Van grabs my hand and places it on his shaft, moving us up and down to the rhythm he likes best. His eyes lock with mine, and together, he climbs to the edge of nirvana.

His mouth finds mine like it’s something he's been craving for ages—hungry, aching, sure. The moment our lips touch, the air charges. His hands slide to my waist, fingers curling in, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.

My breath catches as he deepens the kiss, his mouth hot and demanding, tasting like heat and recklessness.

Every movement is deliberate, teasing, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

My skin buzzes, and I melt into him, lost in the slow burn of it all.

“Your fingers,” he whispers, voice hushed and warm, like a secret meant just for me.

I gather my courage and swipe my thumb over his slit, collecting a bead of his precum, and bring it to his mouth. “Suck,” I tell him, slipping my thumb between his soft lips.

The sight of him, lust-drunk and swollen-lipped, sucking on my thumb like it’s the head of my cock, makes mine kick. Van feels it too, his bright eyes growing rounder.

“Can I touch you?” he asks sweetly. Hesitantly.

“Let me touch you,” I offer instead.

Sliding my thumb from his mouth, I slide it between his cheeks. Van pulls his legs up, knees almost touching his chest as I sit back. The view of his spread legs, of his smooth taint and tight pink hole, almost makes me come undone.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine someone so beautiful and perfect would give themself to me like this. So completely, so trusting.

My thumb brushes over his hole, testing his resistance.

Has Van ever had anyone or anything inside of him ?

God, I hope not. Please, let me be the first. Let this be something that’s just ours.

I swipe over his pucker again, and he clenches tightly. “Van? Have you…”

He reads the words I’ve left unspoken. “No, Père. Just you.”

His eyes meet mine, wide and vulnerable, like he’s laid his whole heart bare in those four quiet words. There’s something fragile in the way he looks at me, like he’s hoping I’ll hold it gently—him gently—and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

My thumb presses against his hole and Van pushes out, allowing me to slip inside. The heat, my God, the heat. His lips part on a breathy sigh, and he continues to hold my gaze as if I’m the only thing tethering him to this moment.

His throat bobs, like the words are caught there, fighting to come out. Then, barely above a whisper, he says, “I’ve tried not to feel this way. I really have.”

His eyes flick down to my mouth and back again, and my heart stutters.

“But every time I’m near you…” He trails off, his voice trembling just a little. “It gets harder to pretend.”

I stroke my thumb in and out of his body, easing the tautness of his muscles.

“I feel the same way, sweetheart.”

His breath ghosts across my cheek, warm and trembling, and I swear I can feel his heartbeat in the space between our bodies. He’s so close, I could close the gap in a blink—but I don’t. I want him to want it. To choose it.

I tilt my head just enough for our foreheads to brush. The contact is light, barely there, but it hits like lightning.

“Say it,” I whisper, not sure if I mean the words or everything behind them .

He exhales, shaky and full of everything unsaid.

He closes his eyes for a beat, like he’s gathering the last of his courage. When they open again, they’re shining. Bare, exposed, nothing left to hide behind.

“I’m in love with you,” Van admits, voice hoarse. “I think I’ve been in love with you for longer than I’m ready to admit.”

My chest tightens, both with fear and relief so sharp it almost hurts.

He swallows hard. “And it terrifies me. Because once I say it, I can’t take it back. And I don’t want to.”

My heart stumbles. He’s trembling, even if he’s trying to hide it. Braver than I’ve ever been.

“I won’t let you take it back.”

I reach for him, cupping the side of his face like I’ve done a hundred times before, only now it means something different, something dangerous and precious all at once.

My lips touch his, slow, like my soul’s catching up to the moment. Like I’m afraid if I go too fast, he’ll vanish. His lips are soft, parted, waiting, and when we finally meet, it’s like coming home. A sigh slips out of him, and I swear I feel it all the way through me.

When I pull back, he’s still staring, eyes wide and wet and beautiful.

“I love you too,” I murmur, my voice rough with everything I’ve been holding back. “God help me, Van, I do.”

“Père, I need to…”

“I know. Let me get you there.”

Slipping my thumb from his body, I replace it with my two longest fingers, hoping to touch that special place inside him that will make the world a brighter place. My fingers slide deeper, and when I brush over it, Van whimpers, spreading his thighs wider.

“Oh, God, Père. I need… I want…”

“Everything,” I murmur, finishing his thought. With quicker strokes, I push Van toward the edge, my other hand stroking his hard shaft. He covers my hand with his, making sure I twist my fist over his sensitive, wet head.

He’s definitely a leaker. A sticky puddle of seed pools on his belly, and I dip my head to lap it up with my tongue.

Sweet ambrosia.

I’ve never tasted another man’s cum before, but after tasting Van’s, I can’t imagine why I’ve waited.

My lips seek his out, and the kiss, the jerking off, the finger-fucking, they become sloppy and uncoordinated, a chaotic tangle of limbs that result in bringing my boy off with a shout.

Van cries out, body twitching in my arms as he comes in my hand, the muscles in his ass squeezing my fingers tightly.

“That’s it, baby. Take everything you need.”

Van latches onto my mouth again, greedily suckling my tongue as his body goes still, his heartbeat slowing.

He looks up at me with curious doe eyes. “W-what about you?”

Me? Shit. This was enough for me to live on for a lifetime.

“Next time, maybe.” I let out a soft chuckle, trying to make the moment lighter. “Don’t worry about me, Van. I have everything I need right here.”

I squeeze him tighter, like I’m holding on to the very essence of him.

My fingers dig into his skin just a little, as if trying to root myself in the reality of what we’ve finally let ourselves feel.

Then, I press a kiss to his head, letting my lips rest there, buried in his hair, as if I never want to leave.

His warmth against me is enough to quiet all the chaos in my mind. He’s everything I need.