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Fiery Heat Ch. 03

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Damon Reid vs Tristan Thomas


Damon stopped his Jag at the gate of his house and punched in a code. The gate opened and he drove inside to park directly in front of the huge mansion.

“You know, I never get over how huge this place is.” Tristan said, getting out of the car.

“Your place is huge too.” Damon countered.

“Yeah but not as huge as this.” Tristan stated the obvious.

Since his mum had re-married about two years earlier and gone off to like with her new husband, Damon lived alone. He did miss his mum but Luke was a very nice person and most important of all, good to his mum so he was okay with their marriage. He was not totally alone though. The household staff was always around. Much as he hated the concept of domestic help, he needed them to maintain the house. Tristan was right…it was huge.

“Hello Damon.” The driver greeted his boss, taking the keys from him so he could go and park the car in the garage.

“Hey Mark. Sup?” Damon responded. He treated the staff as friends because he grew up with most of them. He made sure they were always okay. After all, money was no problem. But the beautiful thing was that, he had their loyalty and friendship. They were his family.

“Cool man.” Mark responded nodding to Tristan.

“Come on.” Damon addressed Tristan.

They entered the great hall and Damon gestured towards the kitchen.

“I’m going to go take a quick shower. I can’t stand the scent of smoke on me. Make yourself at home. We’ll talk when I get back.”

“That we will.” Tristan leaned lazily against the wall, his arm going around one of the pillars in the great hall.

Damon chuckled and started for the stairs but stopped and turned back to look at Tristan. “Are you just gonna stand there?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll just…look around.”

“Suit yourself.” Damon said and dashed up the stairs.

Tristan wondered around looking at pictures and admiring the general architecture of the whole place. It was exquisite. But then, Matt Reid, Damon’s dad, had always had great taste. The man had style. The place belonged to Damon now since it was rumoured that his mother was happy on a little Island with her new husband and wanted nothing to do with the empire. She had given her son complete control over everything by a written legal undertaking. Lydia Reid had told anyone who cared to listen that she wanted to ensure that nobody would have the chance to fight her son over the empire. Talk about a doting mother. Tristan smiled to himself and started up the stairs.

The upstairs was a series of hallways and closed doors, with Damon’s bedroom occupying the middle suite. Tristan of course assumed Damon’s room would be way down the hallway. Therefore as inquisitive as he was, he started opening one door after the other.

He knew immediately he opened Damon’s bedroom. It was so…him. And he could hear the sound of the shower from the adjoining bathroom. “Wow,” he breathed. The light was already on making it easy to see the room in all its glory. The room was massive with an equally massive sleigh bed dominating the space, covered with soft cream silky sheets. The rest of the furnishings were in cream and black. It was warm, masculine and classy.

He heard the shower go off in the en suite bathroom but before he could dash out, Damon strode into the room gloriously nude, moving with that sleek confident grace. He was scrubbing at his shower-damp hair with a towel.

Tristan’s mouth fell open. God, Damon was gorgeous. He couldn’t help but admire his beautiful body. It was even hotter and sexier than he had seen in his dreams. His beautiful abs and biceps flexed as he dried himself, hard and rippling with muscle. Wide shoulders tapering down to a lean waist and hips.

His gaze fell to his cock and he gasped helplessly. He was huge. Tristan’s mouth went dry at his sheer virility. There was something else that held Tristan’s attention. Damon had a piercing at the crown of his cock. The thickness Fatih Escort of his shaft and the silver glint of his barbell almost gave Tristan a seizure. It was…captivating. Tristan didn’t even pretend not to stare at the magnificent package between Damon’s legs.

His gasp had drawn Damon’s attention to his presence. But Damon had calmly watched Tristan checking him out. Seen the way he licked his lips whiles staring at his cock. That had been so erotic, his cock had started hardening. His knowing smile attested to the fact that he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on Tristan.

“Keep looking at me like that,” he warned, leaning casually to place the towel on a stand, “See what happens.” He finished as he started toward Tristan in a riveting display of sinuous muscle, his eyes so blue and smoldered with carnal intent. He looked so hot Tristan was surprised the dampness on his skin didn’t steam away.

A small sound escaped Tristan, a needy cry as his cock grew hard with wanting. He shook his head but couldn’t take his eyes off the glistening, mushroom-shaped head of Damon’s cock with its piercing.

“Damon,” Tristan breathed as Damon’s hands caught him by the hips. His lips opened, just as Damon crashed his lips on his. They were both hard. Tristan’s erection, straining against his jeans, begging to be freed. It was a lush, deep kiss which left Tristan trembling.

“When I get you beneath me, I’m going to devour you,” Damon told him harshly as he wrapped the fingers of one of Tristan’s hands around the girth of his cock. They had no hope of circling it fully. His groan was throttled, a sound of agonizing pleasure. “Every inch of your body, Tristan, I’ll make it burn for me.”

Tristan was breathing roughly now. The connection was startlingly intense. He was going out of his mind with need.

“I’m hard and aching for you Damon. I already burn,” he admitted with slumberous sensuality. But his next words stopped Damon. “But I don’t know what this means. I don’t know what is happening to me Damon.”

Damon ‘s hand threaded through Tristan’s hair, tilting his head back. His head lowered slowly as he stared down at him, watching his eyes dilate, his skin flush then pale alarmingly.

“Fuck!” Damon swore. Tristan was obviously scared. He did want him…that was equally obvious, but he had to come to terms with how he was feeling first.

“When I let you go,” he allowed the growl building in his chest to echo in his words, “if I were you, I would turn that sweet ass around and hightail it back out of this room. If you hesitate, even for a second, if you so much as breathe a hesitation, then I’m going to fuck you so hard and so deep against this door that you’ll never be able to hide your screams of pleasure from all the people in this house. Do I make myself clear, Tristan?”

Instead of responding, Tristan buried his face in Damon’s neck and held him tightly in place.

“Christ…You feel so good.” He whispered shakily. He started rubbing Damon’s cock from base to tip, loving the feel of all that hard flesh in his palm. He circled the ball on the top of his glans with his thumb. Damon’s breath rasped, his grip on Tristan tightened.

“Tris…” Damon groaned. His control was a fragile thing right now. The only thing stilling the hunger to fuck Tristan right now was the fact that he knew it was important they talk. Tristan was confused right now. Damon knew if he didn’t back off now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. And something like that would create problems later.

“I want you.” Tristan moaned making Damon groan even louder. God he was sexy.

“Tell you what,” Damon said holding Tristan at arm’s length, “Go take a cold shower first, then we will have that talk okay? The bathroom’s in there.”

“Shower with me,” Tristan murmured, running his hand down Damon’s arm.

Damon laughed then.

“Dude, I just got out of one. I’ll be downstairs when you’re done. Leave your stuff in the laundry basket in there. I’ll leave something for you on the bed. Go on.”

“Spoilsport.” Fatih Escort Bayan Tristan muttered drawing a chuckle from Damon.

Tristan knew if he didn’t get a shower and settle his own libido down, he was going to go stark raving mad. His cock was waging a constant war with his head. It was hard, aching, needing Damon.

Damon watched him disappear into the bathroom and minutes later heard the shower turn on full force.

Tristan was sexy as sin. What the fuck was he going to do with him?


Tristan came down a while later wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower.

“Hey, you,” He greeted Damon taking in his loose-fitting black jeans and plain black T-shirt. He looked so fucking sexy, Tristan wanted to jump his bones. Only Damon Reid could managed to make worn jeans and T-shirt look expensive and sexy.

“Hey, yourself. Can I get you anything?”

“No I’m good.” He replied flopping down on the couch beside Damon who was sitting with his mini iPad on his thigh and his bare feet on the coffee table.

“Work?” Tristan asked.


“You work too hard.”

“You think?” Damon asked with a raised eye-brow. “And you need to work more. How’s Albatros coming?”

“Seriously? Are we going to talk about work?” Tristan shot back.

Damon sighed and placed the iPad on the coffee table. Then he twisted in the seat, sliding one bent leg in between them so that he faced Tristan directly. God he wanted to lick those lips so bad.

“Okay what do you want to talk about?”

“What do you mean, what do I want to talk about? I want to understand this. Are you gay? Am I? What is happening with us? Damon I’m confused. And I can’t talk to anyone else about this so here I am. Help me understand.” Tristan finished, looking every bit confused as he claimed.

For someone who claimed he was confused, Damon thought Tristan looked insanely sexy and extremely fuckable. Damon had to make an effort to ignore the lurch of his cock beneath his jeans and concentrate on what Tristan was saying.

“Dude, did you hear anything I just said?” Tristan queried noticing Damon’s absent-mindedness.

“Sure sure.” Damon replied clearing his throat. “First of all there’s no Us.”

“I didn’t mean it like that jeez.” Tristan retorted sounding frustrated.

“Second of all, I’m not gay.” Damon went on as if Tristan hadn’t spoken. “I’m bi-sexual. You know what that means right?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. You enjoy fucking both babes and guys blah blah blah. Same shit if you ask me. I am not gay.” Tristan said with a scowl. He drew his lower lips in between his teeth and nibbled on it, lost in thought.

“Stop that.” Damon said softly.

“Stop what?” He asked looking more confused.

“What you were doing with your lips. It’s making me hard. And I believe we’re here to talk.”

And just like that, Tristan became hard. “Shit.” He muttered.

He wasn’t wearing anything beneath those sweatpants, so Damon could clearly see his cock growing. Tristan froze and lifted his head, meeting Damon’s gaze. His lips parted on a gasp when he saw the heat and hunger in Damon’s eyes. They mirrored the need coursing through him.

“Oh, God.” The whispered words tore from his throat.

“Fuck this.” Damon growled and grabbed Tristan’s head , dipped his head and took Tristan’s lips in a sizzling kiss. Tristan curled his fingers in the front of Damon’s t-shirt and held on. Molten lava spread through him, nice and slow, matching the rhythm Damon set as he flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth.

Tristan moaned, reeling under the intense heat. Just a kiss and he wanted to strip naked and ride Damon into tomorrow. He was leaking so much his sweatpants had a wet patch where his cock pushed against it. Damon moved a hand around Tristan’s waist and pulled his hips closer to him in the middle of the seat. Tristan was so lost in all the delicious sensations, he groaned in protest when Damon separated their lips.

Damon pulled the sweatpants down Escort Fatih Tristan’s hips and freed his leaking cock.

“Damon what are you doing?” Tristan asked breathlessly. His hard cock slapped against his covered stomach and the gushing pre-cum leaked onto his t-shirt. He didn’t think he had ever been this hard in his life.

“Something I need to do. I can’t think when I’m this hard.” Damon said taking Tristan’s cock into his hand. He gave it a hard stroke and Tristan groaned, tendons cording his neck. He watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Damon’s tongue darted out and licked the tip of his dick.

“Fuck Damon.” Tristan moaned and wiggled, spreading his legs wider. Hungry moans bubbled in his throat.

Damon made a noise of pleasure and reached between his legs to cup his balls. Tristan’s head fell back into the sofa cushion, his breath heaving in and out.

Tilting his head, Damon ran his tongue down the pulsing length of Tristan’s cock, following the line of a thick vein. Tristan’s hands fisted by his thighs. He was going out of his mind with pleasure. Damon swirled his tongue around the head, then fluttered the tip just beneath the crown. Then he swallowed him whole.


Tristan’s back arched with a serrated groan. He grabbed onto Damon’s head, his fingers tightening in his hair. The drenching heat around the most sensitive part of him nearly drove him out of his mind. Damon’s fingertips massaging his balls just about rolled his eyes into the back of his head.

“God, that’s good,” he gasped, his thighs trembling.

The pleasure was vicious, tightening around his spine and pooling at his lower back. The erotic sounds filling the room—Damon’s low moans of pleasure, the wet suckling, Tristan’s helpless curses as he felt the orgasm barrelling through him .


Tristan concentrated on the sensations Damon was layering over him. The feel of his warm tongue, and the suction of those soft lips around him. Damon wasn’t taking the time to tease, maybe was having a hard time holding back himself. He was sucking Tristan’s cock like his life depended on it.

“It’s so good,” Tristan whispered, tangling one hand in Damon’s hair.

Damon made a noise around him, the vibration traveling out and spreading through Tristan’s body. He was dying. Couldn’t lie still, wriggling closer, tilting his hips, trying to get him to…

“I’m gonna…Damon I’m gonna cum.” He finished shakily. He was helpless against the on-coming explosion.

A suck, a lick, and a swirl of tongue and then Tristan was crying out, spilling down Damon’s throat in long, ragged pulses, his eyes closed tight. The orgasm which slammed into him, rocked him and took his breath like he had been hit by a truck.

“Fuuuuck!” Tristan yelled, his back arching, and then again as he kept shooting. The ecstasy sizzling down his spine kept him coming, his balls aching as he emptied them deep down Damon’s throat.

Damon sucked him, wringing everything out of him, every shudder, moan and gasp Damon could get, before backing off. Tristan flopped back onto the couch, sprawling on his back, legs shaking. He felt weak as everything was wrung out of him.

“That was intense,” Tristan said shakily.


“I liked it.”

“You don’t say.”

Then Damon was pulling him up by his hands. He threw Tristan on his back fireman-style and started towards the stairs.

“I’m going to fuck your ass, baby,” Damon told Tristan, shocking him, heating his blood with the sensual promise. “Hard and deep, Tris. I’m going to show you what happens when someone makes my blood boil like you do.” Damon started up the stairs. “I bet, Tris, that when my cock

shoots up your sweet ass, you’ll be all nice and hot and so tight around my dick I’ll go crazy with it.”

Tristan trembled at the explicit words. He was fighting just to breathe. It was too sensual. But then he remembered the size of Damon’s cock and reality set in.

“Don’t hurt me, Damon.”

A resounding crack to his naked butt had Tristan jerking and swearing curses at Damon.

“Do you really believe I’m going to hurt you Tristan? I’m going to make you scream out in pleasure. You’re so fucking gorgeous…So sexy. I’m so damn stiff it hurts…See what you do to me? You are so gonna get it Tris. Get ready baby.”

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