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This sexy story from Six Degrees of Separation by Taylor V. Donovan published with permission.

Gay erotica sexy story by Taylor V. Donovan

Sam snatched a condom from his bedside table, dropped his jeans, and followed Mac’s ass—and his own dick—to the bathroom. It hadn’t been twenty minutes since he’d come all over Mac’s hand, but he was ready to go again.

It never ceased to amaze him how immediate his physical reaction was whenever he was around Mac. Not only had he hardened to an almost painful length in a matter of seconds, but his heartbeat fucking leaped, and blood surged through his veins at an alarming speed.

Mac took his breath away. Made him feel off-kilter and centered at the same time—and in the past few days he’d come to realize lust wasn’t the sole reason for it.

Sam’s mind, body, and heart had been at war from the moment he asked Mac to come to South Beach with him, and his behavior in the past hours could only mean his heart had won.

But Sam wasn’t ready to accept that, which was why he grabbed Mac’s shoulder, bent him over the sink, and used his own body to keep him in place. After overcoming what had to be one of the most frightening moments of his life with his dignity mostly intact, he needed to be one with Mac in a way he could control.

 

He wanted a fuck.

The kind of sex that had nothing to do with feelings and everything to do with getting down and dirty and losing his inhibitions. The kind that Mac would still feel days after he’d gone back to Texas.

Mac’s heavy shoulders tensed rock tight, but when Sam’s fingers grazed the clammy skin covering his ribs and gripped his hip with a not-so-steady hand, Mac became liquid.

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The bathroom had steamed up from Mac leaving the water running too long, but their gazes met in the foggy mirror above the sink. Mac’s emerald depths shone with knowledge, raw desire, and acceptance of the man pinning him against the sink. Sam’s own eyes showed something he didn’t dare name, but it was all-consuming nonetheless.

The broad back fit perfectly against Sam’s chest as he aligned his body over Mac’s.

“We should get in the shower,” Mac suggested softly. “It’s been a few hours since—”

“I don’t give a shit.” Sam inhaled until he felt he would explode if he didn’t release his breath. “I want to taste you, babe. It’s your scent that does it for me, not some shower gel.”

He buried his left hand in short blond hair and licked his guy’s earlobe without breaking eye contact, but when Mac ground his ass against his groin, Sam lowered his face and sank his teeth into the hot flesh of the curve between Mac’s shoulder and neck.

He sucked on the skin. That was a favorite spot of his, and he couldn’t help it. Fortunately for him, Mac loved it, as evidenced by his deep growl, the arm he wrapped around Sam’s neck, and the way his knees buckled. He cranked Mac’s head to the side to expose more of his throat, then licked up and down a few times before sucking again. He wanted to leave a mark. He wanted Mac to see it every time he got dressed, and to feel the pull of his skin when he moved around.

They kissed.

The angle of their bodies made it sloppy and awkward, but it brought Sam to the brink of orgasm.

“Sit on the countertop for me,” he panted in Mac’s ear. “I want to suck you off and eat your ass.”

“Oh, fuck….” Mac complied immediately, clearing a space between the two sinks with a sweep of his hand and sitting on it.

They shared another scorching kiss. Sam covered Mac’s knees with his hands and pushed them up, and the moment his feet were firmly planted on the countertop, Sam stepped between Mac’s legs and spread his knees as wide as he could.

Mac ended the kiss and leaned farther back. Sam licked his lips as he watched his guy’s head rest against the mirror and his asshole peeking from the edge of the countertop.

Bared to Sam.

Inviting.

Mesmerizing.

Ready for his tongue.

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He nipped Mac’s collarbone and rolled an erect nipple between his fingers. That’s when he caught sight of his new tattoo, a colorful contrast against the golden skin of Mac’s stomach.

Overtaken by feelings he didn’t care to analyze, he closed his eyes and got on his knees. This wasn’t the time to think about how he’d willingly marked his body with a number that also meant a lot to his guy.

Mac’s massive erection lay straight against his lower abs, hot and needy and leaking at the tip.

Sam wrapped his hand around the base, glanced up, and proceeded to worship the essence of his guy’s manhood.

He slid his tongue around the glans and up and down the shaft, then sucked on the hairless balls, which amped up his desire to self-combustion levels. To say he cherished having those heavy globes in his mouth would be an understatement. Unlike himself, who’d always preferred a simple trim, Mac’s genitals were completely shaved, and Sam loved that particular difference between them.

Mac’s hands clutched either side of his head. Sam smiled up at him, mouth full of cock. He knew that was a view his lover thoroughly enjoyed.

He did everything he’d learned Mac liked.

He played with his dick. He tickled the frenulum and the corona with the tip of his tongue, stuck his tongue in the slit, and sucked the perineum. He stroked him with a firm hand and licked slowly from head to base for several minutes before opening his mouth wide and going to town.

Sam sucked for all he was worth. He ignored his own body’s demands for attention and focused on making Mac’s body jerk with pleasure. He made Mac mewl his desire and frustration, and almost lost his own mind in the process.

He brought Mac to the edge several times. He licked, sucked, and tongue-fucked Mac’s pretty hole, and every time Mac got close to orgasm, Sam squeezed him hard and started all over again.

Because Mac loved getting head, and Sam took pride in keeping his guy utterly satisfied.

Because Mac had chosen to stay with him after they battled out their future, and that made Sam damn happy.

Because it would be at least a few weeks before they could be together again.

He felt a tug on his hair, and the bottle of lube was placed in his hand.

Sam got up and let Mac kiss him clean as he took a few seconds to lube him up with two fingers. Then he put on the condom and buried himself in Mac’s heat.

“You doing okay?” he asked softly against Mac’s lips.

“Never been better, darlin’.” Mac’s voice was nothing but a whisper. “I want to come.” He grabbed Sam’s hand, spit on it, and wrapped it around his cock. Sam took it away and shook his head.

“Not like that,” he grunted. “I want you to come from feeling my cock filling you up.”

Mac flashed him a smile so wicked it turned Sam’s world upside down.

He adjusted his stance, withdrew almost all the way, and pushed in again. He found his rhythm in a few heartbeats, and judging by Mac’s open mouth and glazed eyes, he’d yet to miss his prostate.

“We’re so fucking good at this,” Mac moaned, and Sam nodded his agreement. “I could really get used to this,” he added after kissing Sam and biting his jaw. “Couldn’t you?”

“I don’t want to talk.” He squeezed his eyes shut, but Mac wasn’t having any of that.

Mac pulled his hair and forced Sam to look him in the eye. “Couldn’t you?” he repeated.

“One day at a time,” was all Sam said after a few seconds. Yes, he would gladly fuck his way to the grave with Mac, but he couldn’t admit to it.

He didn’t have to say a word, though. As it turned out, Mac could read his mind.

“One day you’ll be ready for more,” Mac said in a voice so low Sam almost didn’t hear him.

Christ.

“You promised me,” he growled, scared shitless of possibilities he couldn’t afford to consider. “One day at a time, remember?”

Mac nodded. “One day at a time it’ll be….” He kissed Sam again and caressed his stubbly cheek, “but I reserve the right to change the game as I see fit.”

“Don’t push me, Mac.” He meant to sound threatening, but a rather embarrassing whimper of pleasure escaped him and completely ruined the effect.

Shit.

How was he supposed to think with a clear head when he was in his favorite place? ’Cause there were no questions about that. Buried in the kitten’s ass was where he wanted to spend every second he could.

“I won’t push you,” Mac said, gazing at him in the most sweet and understanding way. “I’ll just take my cues from you.”

Sam’s heart skipped a few beats. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason, but he felt like his fate had been sealed. It scared the shit out of him, so he shook his head and concentrated on the most pressing matter at hand.

He fucked Mac hard and let the fear, relief, and apprehension of the past couple of hours drive his every thrust. It didn’t take long. Mac’s chute clenched around his cock, and Sam smiled triumphantly when Mac’s spunk hit his chest and face.

Best fucking feeling in the world.

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Even though he’d just come, Mac grasped his shoulders and met Sam’s thrusts with his own.

Sam closed his eyes, threw back his head, and swallowed all the things he suddenly wanted to say.

Like how happy he was they’d gotten to spend almost a week together or how much he hated that it had come to an end, and please, could they do it again?

The growl that initiated somewhere near Sam’s balls and made its way up his stomach and throat was almost inhuman in its volume and intensity. His rhythm became erratic, his spine exploded, and the world disappeared as he started to come. And all he could think as he came back from the most powerful orgasm ever was that he wanted another… and another.

He wanted as many as he could handle, and he wanted them all with Mac.

*

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You can buy Six Degrees of Separation here.

Taylor V. Donovan is a bicultural travel aficionado, compulsive researcher, and lover of history and all things 80s. Born and raised in Puerto Rico, she now resides in New York City, remains passionate about her homeland, and is optimistically cynical about the world.

When not writing queer romance, she can be found indulging in true crime documentaries, advocating for civil rights, and fighting for equality for all. You can find her on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

 

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