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.
