Note: Poppy has been teasing Branch all night, sending him winks, dancing up close against him, showing off the plunging neckline of her dress. He resolves to punish her and steaminess ensues during their car ride home. Oneshot. For more, check out the sequel SWEET TORTURE.

Rated M for steaminess.

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The melody filling the prom hall was sweet and mellow, the tempo constantly speeding and slowing. On the stage in the corner, the band played with hooded eyes and dancers in their finery spun before them. Poppy moved among them in time to the beat, her hips swaying, feet flying across the floor, graceful as always.

The room was dim, lit only by small fires flickering on the small lights overhead. The light shifted and danced as if it heard the music, painting the room in shadows and gold. Branch stood by the windows, his gaze strained on Poppy, following her every twirl. He reminded her of the fireflies as they spun carelessly through the air, riding on currents of wind, unrestrained and free. She had convinced him to dance with her and he'd indulged her for a little while, but then he'd stepped away, preferring to watch her instead.

She was a sight to behold. Her gown was baby blue, turned dark blue under the firelight and weak moonlight spilling in from the windows. When she moved, the material outlined her small curves and the deep plunging neckline of her dress left little to the imagination. She looked enticing, and Branch wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over her, pull her close. She caught his hungry gaze and gave him a discreet wink. Tease, he thought.

The tune changed, becoming upbeat and swift. Branch continued to watch as she joined hands with the girls and they spun in a circle across the dance floor. With every spin, she leaned back a little further and the neckline of her dress shifted outward to the side, revealing more and more of her scantily covered chest. Branch's breath caught in his throat, his eyes locked on the expanse of her skin, which grew with each passing moment. He knew it wasn't so but he felt as if she was doing this on purpose, tempting him, testing his restraint, which was dangerously close to breaking.

Just before the dress shifted to reveal too much and her modesty evaporated, she straightened. Branch let out his breath; he hadn't known he'd been holding it. He needed a drink. Desperately.

Moving over to the refreshments table, he chose the strongest liquor and downed it. Not that it did anything to calm him; he still felt flustered.

Had they been anywhere else, he would've grabbed Poppy and they would be kissing in a hidden alcove somewhere by now. But they were on Domino, celebrating one year since the rebirth of the realm and there were teachers and chaperones everywhere. And even if he did take the risk, if they were to be caught, it would defame the popular fashion twins by association and they'd probably bury him alive.

Grabbing another drink, he went back to his place by the window and sought out Poppy in the crowd. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Earlier, when they'd been dancing together, he hadn't been able to keep his hands off her either, copping a feel whenever they danced into a shadow. She had been teasing him relentlessly, pressed up closer to him than was appropriate at a ball, and he hadn't been able to help himself.

He cursed himself for being so weak-willed when it came to her.

He spotted her at last in amongst the other guests. She was dancing with Suki, swaying, whirling, looking tantalising. Fixedly he watched her: the movement of her hips, the swish of her rear, the way the light played across her skin. She turned so that she faced him and he saw the tiny smirk curving her lips. She knew that he was watching.

This time, when she leaned back, it was on purpose. She danced near the windows and the moonlight washed over the column of her neck and her chest, making her skin glow. Branch clenched his jaw.

Seeing his reaction, her smirk grew and she spun Suki nearer to where he stood. As she danced past him, she brushed her lips against his jaw, the gesture imperceptible to the crowd. He revelled in the heat beneath his skin where her lips had just touched, eyes still on her as she danced away. She gave him another wink, her smirk a full-blown grin now.

Such a tease, Branch thought. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? His restraint was as thin as a thread; he fought to get it back. There was nothing he could do, not yet. He'd have to wait till they left the ball.

A few songs later, he couldn't take it any longer, having watched her glide through the room in her ridiculously form-fitting dress, whose neckline he swore was shrinking. She had been glancing at him coyly throughout the songs, winking mischievously at every opportunity. His jaw hurt from all the clenching and grinding.

He strode across the ballroom to her and put his arms around her waist. His mouth dropped to her ear. "You've been teasing me," he whispered, his voice husky.

Poppy smirked. "And you've been enjoying it."

He pulled back and stared down at her, his gaze dropping south past her lips. "You shouldn't be allowed to wear dresses like this," he said, his fingers skimming the skin the plunging neckline showcased.

"You don't like it?" she asked, feigning innocence. She angled her body towards the moonlight, making her skin glow in its luminescence.

"I like it too much." He whispered the words against her lips and felt her shiver. "I don't know if I can control myself."

"Then don't," she said simply.

His eyes darkened; hers glinted challengingly. He brushed his lips over hers, teasing, once, twice. Then his thread-thin restraint snapped and he bent lower, putting his mouth hard over hers, tongue probing past her lips. But before their kiss could escalate, a cough came loudly over their shoulders. They broke apart, suddenly realising where they were, and turned towards Suki, who stood shaking her head disapprovingly.

"You do realize," Suki hissed, "that you're standing in the middle of the room where everyone can see you. Branch being careless I understand - in fact, put a beautiful woman in front of any man and he'll start thinking with his member. But you, Poppy?" Suki shook her head. "I expected you to keep your head at least."

"Branch kissed me," Poppy protested, cheeks burning.

"Only because you've been teasing him all night." Suki fixed her with a pointed stare. "Don't think I haven't noticed. I saw you kiss him when we danced past him earlier. That's right - you're not as subtle as you think! I doubt there's much blood going to his brain right now anyway, so it's not his fault that you're embarrassing yourselves in front of everyone."

Branch opened his mouth to protest, but Suki was right: his blood was definitely not going to his brain.

"Come on," Suki said, grabbing Poppy's arm. "Let's go outside and give Branch some time to cool off."

Pushing away her embarrassment, Poppy began following after Suki, but just before Branch was out of reach, she brushed her hand subtly against the place where his blood was going to.

"Seriously," Suki said, appalled, as Branch tensed. "You need to get a grip, Poppy! I saw that!"

Poppy laughed and then she disappeared outside. She was going to pay, Branch decided, but first, he really did need to cool off. He grabbed another drink and went to join his friends standing near the windows, hoping that their conversation and banter would make the party end sooner.

It was pitch-black outside when the ball finally ended and everyone filed outside. The moon hid behind dark storm clouds and in the far distance, thunder rumbled. Branch walked hurriedly down the steps, tugging Poppy behind him. Their car waited among the others, gleaming in the weak moonlight. The driver sat with his back straight on the seat at the front, loosely holding the steering wheel. He was young, barely a young man, probably one of the butler boys who had been relieved of his duties for the night to drive the guests back to their residences.

Branch waved his hand in dismissal at the boy before he could jump down from his seat and open the door for them. Instead, he did it himself, helping Poppy into the car. The space inside was large, with two cushioned seats, illuminated by a light source from the ceiling (some cars have that btw). Branch waited till Poppy had settled herself on the seat, then he lifted his hand and turn off the light.

"Why did you do that?" Poppy asked as the car began to move. She could barely see him in the moonlight coming through the windows, but she could feel his smirk.

"So I could punish you for teasing me all night." His voice was deep, seductive.

Anticipation coiled deep within her. She felt him inch closer, and then suddenly she was in his arms and his mouth was slanting over hers, and there was nothing but the taste of him and the feel of him and the heat surging through her.

Their kiss escalated quickly, tongues stroking, teeth hitting one another's as if they couldn't quite get close enough. Poppy moaned when she felt him bite on her lip and then soothe the bite with his tongue. She felt intoxicated. The only thing she was aware of was the kiss; it was hot and lustful, and she was on fire.

Branch pushed up the skirt of her gown, revealing her legs. She got the hint and moved to sit on his lap, grinding down hard against his hips and then swallowing down his wanton moan. By the sound, he was sexy when he moaned.

"Like that, huh?" she said into the kiss and he moaned in assent.

She repeated the motion, moaning with him, until he pulled away, air whooshing out from between his lips, eyes shut tight. Rising from his lap, Poppy unbuckled his trousers and pulled them off him. Then she ground down against him again - only underwear between them now - and watched and revelled in the way his eyes shut tighter and his head fell back to rest against the car wall.

She paused, staring at him for a moment. Moonlight washed over his face and when he opened his eyes, the lust in his gaze was plain to see.

She bit her lip. "Punish me, Branchie," she whispered, leaning in to him, her voice demanding and sensual.

"Oh, I will," he promised, smirking against her ear. Trailing a line of kisses along her jawline, he reached her mouth and captured it another heated kiss. His hands stroked her thighs, stopping at the peak just once to rub firmly before retreating. She groaned, arching into him, and Branch wondered for a moment whether the boy driver could hear them, before deciding that he didn't really care.

He moved his mouth down Poppy's neck, leaving a line of love bites. He loved the sounds she made, each and every moan and sigh and mewl. Reaching the junction between her neck and shoulder, he bit down while gripping her thighs firmly. "Branchie," she breathed huskily and he was suddenly very glad that his trousers were off.

The skin exposed by the plunging V-neck of her dress was cast in a blueish sheen under the moonlight; Branch kissed his way down the strip of skin and skimmed his lips over the inner part of each of her breasts that the dress revealed. Poppy tried moving the material to uncover more of her skin, but he caught her hands, holding them behind her back as he continued to kiss her chest. She whimpered, bucking on his lap, feeling his need through his boxers. For a moment, she wondered if she was really the one being punished; at least she was getting some relief with his mouth on her body.

His hands roamed her legs again, slowly wandering to her rear. He pulled her against his groin and groaned when he felt how much she wanted him, but her punishment was not over yet. Lightly his fingers skimmed her underwear, turning her into a whimpering mess above him. She rocked into his hands but he didn't increase the pressure. He kept up with his light and torturous rubbing, his tongue tracing her collarbone, hot breath fanning over her chest. Goosebumps covered every inch of her skin and her fingers knotted in his hair.

Without warning, he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and tugged upwards on the material, hard. The friction made Poppy scream. A ripping sound came a heartbeat later and she realized he'd torn through the lace. Before she could scold him, his fingers resumed skimming and rubbing, this time with more pressure and no material to obstruct them.

As her head flew back, the car began to slow. The boy driver's voice floated back to them. "Is everything alright?"

Branch took Poppy's earlobe between his teeth, increasing the pressure of his fingers. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep from screaming again.

"Answer him," Branch ordered. The strokes of his fingers became faster. She shook her head. "Answer him, Poppy, or I will stop."

She whimpered, then took a deep breath, fighting against the heat consuming her. "Everything's fine," she said weakly.

"Louder," Branch growled.

Her keens filled the car as she felt his fingers ease into her body, where she wanted them most. There was no way she was going to be able to answer the driver coherently. Words flew out of her mind; there was only his fingers, driving her insane.

"Answer him," Branch said again, his teeth tugging on her earlobe.

"I can't," she whimpered, breathless. "Branch..."

She felt his fingers retreat and knew she had no choice. "Everything's fine," she shouted loudly through the window, clenching her thighs together to keep his fingers where they were. She knew she'd sounded breathy but she hoped the boy wouldn't take much notice or worse, stop the car and come check on them. She held her breath and a moment later sighed in relief when the car picked up speed again, the engine at the front beating harder.

"I hate you," Poppy hissed and tugged on Branch's hair angrily.

He laughed. "No you don't. Besides, you brought this on yourself."

She bit her lip, resolving to keep her voice down and gave in to his ministrations, rocking back and forth. One of his hands came up to brush over her dress-covered chest; her nipples strained against the material and he rolled his thumb over them. It wasn't enough. She needed his mouth. She pushed his head towards her chest but he was intent on suckling on her neck.

Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she unzipped her dress before he could stop her and pulled it over her head, throwing it behind her. She stared at him, giving him the most seductive look she could muster.

Branch breathed through his nose, the hand between her thighs speeding up, but her gaze didn't falter. She sat on his lap, not a scrap of clothing covering her, daring him to taste her skin. He resisted, remembered he had to punish her, but when her own hands began snaking up from her stomach to her chest, his resolve shattered like glass and he ducked swiftly to kiss her bust. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders instead, clenching as she felt his rough, wet tongue on her nipples.

She was burning, she was sure of it. Fire raged deep within her core, radiating out to the tips of her fingers and toes. If this was the result of teasing him, she'd have to do it more often.

She lost herself to the pleasure, whispering his name, moaning, her head rolling from side to side. The tension built, faster and faster. She was profoundly aware of his fingers moving and his mouth kissing, lapping, biting. It was becoming too much to take. She hurtled towards the edge, the tension deep within her seconds away from breaking.

It shattered, completely, suddenly, when he kissed her sweet spot above her collarbone. His name left her lips, a strangled cry, her fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough that Branch could feel her fingers digging into his skin even through his suit and shirt.

He brushed his lips against hers, waiting till she calmed. As she panted softly, he removed the rest of his clothing, the cool air from the windows drying the perspiration on his body. Once he sensed she'd regained her breath, he removed her from his lap, laying her gently on the long seat and then moving to hover over her.

Her eyes were clouded and there was a small mischievous smile on her lips. "I enjoyed my punishment," she whispered, making his mouth turn up in a rare smile. He stared down at her adoringly, tracing her cheeks with his thumb.

She closed her eyes and pulled him down to her, running her hands over the hard planes of his back. Branch put his mouth over hers and they kissed lazily for what felt like eternity. Finally, he settled between her hips and joined their bodies.

They moaned in unison.

The feeling was like nothing else.

"I love you," Branch murmured into her hair, his voice strained.

Poppy could only moan in response, wrapping her legs around his waist as he began rolling his hips.

They were a tangle of limbs, hands running all over each other, lips kissing, teeth biting. Their pace became frenzied and their moans and grunts filled the air. The car jostled unexpectedly over a bumpy patch in the road, pushing them closer together, increasing the intensity of each connection. Poppy cried out, raking her fingers down Branch's back. He groaned at the feeling, clutching her closer to him.

She could feel his heart pounding against her ribcage, its beating keeping pace with his hips. Her back arched, exposing her throat to him; he peppered kisses all over it, moving down to her bust.

The fire coursing through her had turned into an inferno, all-consuming. "Harder," she cried, wanting to stoke the flames. Branch obeyed, hands holding her waist tightly.

He could tell that she was close to her peak. She trembled in his arms, moaning with abandon, saying his name over and over. At that moment, he didn't care that she was being loud, that the boy driver could undoubtedly hear her; the sounds she made were music to his ears, meant for him, caused by him.

He buried his head in crook of her neck, his breath catching as they plummeted into bliss together. Poppy arched into him, her head thrown back, mouth open in a soundless scream.

Branch kissed the pulse on her neck; it was racing just like his own. As they both recovered, his fingers wove through her hair, combing it gently.

It took a few moments for their heartbeats to slow and for their breathing to return to normal. It was only then that they realised that the car had stopped moving. He rolled off her, handing her back her gown and then dressing himself quickly.

Her lace underwear, torn and unusable, lay in the corner; Branch picked it up and held it up for Poppy to see. "Looks like you'll have to go without," he said, smirking as he pocketed the scrap of lace.

Poppy blushed, shoving at him. He caught her around the waist, pulling her in for a tender kiss.

"You can punish me now," he murmured against her lips, "for ruining your underwear."

A wicked glint formed in her eyes and she dragged him out the car.

The boy driver sat on his perch, rigid, stiffly holding the wheel. He stared straight ahead, his face beet-red in embarrassment. He'd heard everything. Normally Poppy would have been mortified, but now she barely spared the boy a glance as she pulled Branch close to her by his shirt collar and walked backwards to their house, eager to get her revenge.

To find out what happens next, check out the sequel to this story, titled, SWEET TORTURE.

-broppylover_1352