Poppy looked at herself in the mirror making sure she looked good before taking a breath calming her nerves. She was wearing nothing but white lace because she wanted to show off her body to him to make it known that she was his forever.

She looked in the mirror one more time and finally walked out of the closet and made her way over to Branch who was waiting for her on the bed.

The more she walked over to him the more nervous she was, but she couldn't back down now could she? One he saw what she was wearing he froze upon seeing her, his mouth agape and whole face flushing a deep red.

"Do you like my outfit?" Poppy asked innocently and Branch could only nod slowly in response before pulling her onto the bed."Very much." Branch's words are a husky rumble against her mouth as he kisses her.

Poppy tugs on his shorts as she returns the kiss, her tongue hot and insistent as it slides along his. She moans softly into his mouth, and he feels it echo inside his chest.

The heel of her foot prods the back of his leg as she reclines onto the bed, pulling him with her.

Their mouths part clumsily as they shift toward the center of the mattress, but she surges up each time to recapture his lips as if she can't go a single second without kissing him

Branch crawls over her, already straining against his slacks. The picture-perfect sight of Poppy in the lingerie she'd chosen for him and the needy, intense way she kisses him makes electricity spark through his veins, feeding the slow-burning fire in the pit of his stomach.

There's a touch of desperation in her movements as she pulls at his shirt and shoves at his jacket. Poppy breaks from the kiss only to murmur a quick, "Off," against his lips as her fingers work to undo the buttons down the front of his chest. He shrugs out of the clothing mindlessly, his focus entirely on her.

Poppy's hands roam over the expanse of his back, nails digging lightly into the sensitive skin above his shoulder blades before skirting down his spine. His nerve endings fire relentlessly under her touch and goosebumps spread down his arms as a thrill runs through him. He feels the press of her fingers on the small of his back urging his hips down to hers, but he resists.

Breaking from the kiss, he nips at her full bottom lip and tugs it with him as he pulls away. She chases him, whining at the loss of contact, but he moves to sit back on his knees, wanting to indulge in the sight of her.

"Poppy," he whispers her name with reverence, like a prayer. "You look so beautiful." The words tumble from his mouth without much thought, but it's true. He hungrily maps the contours of her body with his eyes.

Blushing, Poppy writhes under his heated gaze, but doesn't shy away.

"Touch me," she whimpers, reaching for his arms and placing his hands on her stomach.

Branch bites his lip as her muscles ripple under his touch.

The lace is silky and rough at the same time, but Poppy is soft and warm beneath it. The contrast of texture under his fingertips is addicting, and he lets his hands glide up and down her sides.

Poppy moves deliciously, so responsive to his touch, and his erection throbs with want. When his thumb passes over her nipple, she arches off the bed and makes a sound that shoots through his belly straight to his cock.

The way she moves is mesmerizing and he can't take his eyes off her, but her head has rolled back and her neck looks oh so appealing. He bows his head to press a kiss to her pulse, feeling the way it thrums hard and fast against his lips, before ghosting his teeth over the spot. Poppy's fingers slide into his hair, curling and tugging as he trails wet kisses down the long column of her throat.

He noses down the valley between her breasts, planting a soft kiss on the bullet before nudging it out of his way. His teeth catch on lace at the base of her sternum, and he captures the hem between his teeth and pulls, letting it snap back gently against her skin. It's not taut enough to sting or leave a mark, but he pauses to drop a tender kiss to the spot anyway.

His fingers dance along the lacy edge of fabric up over the slope of her breast, before he cups the soft flesh in his palm and squeezes it firmly. Her hips lift, searching for his, and he wants to press his arousal to the space between her thighs to give them both some relief, but he also wants to take his sweet time with her.

Branch rolls her nipple between his fingers and lifts his head to watch, enjoying the way rose-colored flesh hardens and strains against the web of tight white lace.

When he pulls the stiffening bud between his lips and sucks, she moans. She pushes her chest more firmly into his mouth, her fingers digging into his scalp and holding him to her.

His hands smooth down the bumps of her ribs and splay wide at her waist over satin ties that crisscross the small of her back. She's as soft and smooth as velvet underneath his fingertips while the lace is rough against his tongue as he lavishes her sensitive nipple.

He moves to shower the same attention on her other breast until Poppy's a wriggling, panting mess beneath him.

"Branchifer, please," she begs, pushing firmly on his shoulders, urging him lower. "I need you."

Branch smirks against flushed, heated skin, but acquiesces immediately—the thought of her desire on his tongue far too appealing to resist.

Leaving a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses down the center of her stomach, he makes his way down her pink body, pausing every so often to trace the patterns in the lace with his tongue.

He kisses the dip of her bellybutton and the sensitive skin beneath it before slipping one arm underneath the small of her back and wrapping the other around her thigh. In one smooth motion, he drags her to the edge of the bed.

Poppy gasps at the sudden move, and he knows she loves it when he shows his strength, loves any gentle reminder of who he is. It makes his heart flutter, that she accepts him so completely, that she loves him for all that he is.

He kneels before her, admiring the way the lace stretches across the swollen pink flesh between her thighs. Her arousal soaks the fabric and coats her thighs, and he leans forward to breathe her in, her scent a heady, intoxicating thing.

"Darling," he exhales. His hot breath makes her squirm.

"Was imagining your reaction," she explains.

He pictures her sitting on his bed, awaiting his return, already wet and wanting as she imagines all the wicked ways he'd have her.

"Did you imagine this?" Branch asks and then swipes his tongue over the lingerie, delighting in the salty sweet taste of her desire.

Poppy keens, her hips bucking at the contact, but he holds her steady. Nipping at her inner thigh, he waits for her reply.

"Yes," she breathes, rolling her hips beseechingly.

Pleased with her answer, Branch spreads her legs and opens her up to him. The lingerie remains in place for now, and he licks the line of her slit, pressing the flat of his tongue to her clit when he reaches it. The roughness of the lace and the hot pressure from his tongue as he licks over the sensitive bundle of nerves makes her gasp his name. Her fingers yank at his hair as she pushes her hips toward his face.

He gives her another long lick over the lace before pushing the thin barrier aside. Lifting one of her legs over his shoulder and splaying his fingers over her silken thigh, he pulls her closer and buries his tongue into soft, slick folds.

Her hips roll to meet him as he maps heated flesh with long, deep strokes of his tongue that tease at her entrance and end with a swirl or a flick on her clit.

"Don't stop," Poppy manages through the symphony of sighs and gasps and moans that leave her lips; the sweetest music to his ears.

Poppy needn't worry as he has no intention of stopping. Branch brings her closer and closer to ecstasy, until her muscles begin to tense and shudder. Closing his lips around her clit, he sucks hard. Her legs quake on either side of his head as she falls into her orgasm, her hips rocking erratically as she chases her pleasure on his tongue.

Branch watches as Poppy smiles, and it's slow and sated, the way she always smiles after he gives her a spectacular orgasm. He runs the edge of his teeth gently over her sensitive clit, and she twitches and laughs and tugs on his hair.

"Okay, stop," Poppy pleads, and she's breathless and giddy and it makes his chest feel tight, like his heart might burst with how much he loves her.

"But I thought you said don't stop?" Branch teases, rubbing the scruff of his face over the jut of her hip bone.

Poppy laughs again, her body curling inward and away from the ticklish sensation even as she pulls him closer. He loves that she's ticklish, loves the sound of her joy, loves that he gets to see her this way—easy and free and relaxed.

Her laughter fades into a hum as she gazes at him with adoration in her eyes. Again, she tugs on his arms. He climbs up her body so that he can hover above her, leaning down to kiss her, deep and lazy.

When they'd first gotten together, he'd felt this strange need to rush—like his time with her was limited, like she'd soon come to her senses and suddenly really realize he's the Devil and that she deserves better.

But she hasn't gone anywhere.

Poppy's still his partner, still holds him close every night, still whispers how proud she is of him when she thinks he's asleep, and her eyes still shine like stars when she tells him she loves him.

When she looks at him, she sees neither angel nor devil. She just sees him. His heart and soul.

Her arms slide around his waist, and she hugs him tight as she breaks from the kiss to send him a sweet smile. "This was supposed to be a present for you, you know."

"And it was," he says, dropping a light kiss to the tip of her nose as his thumb traces the shape of her eyebrow. "Still is."

Branch lowers himself between her legs and groans as he pushes his achingly hard erection against her center. Poppy gasps and lifts her hips to meet him as he rocks against her in a gentle rhythm. His eyelids flutter at the feeling—even with the layer of fabric separating them, her heat feels divine.

Letting go of his waist, her hands find his cheeks, keeping their faces close. He feels the press of metal from her ring, usually cool but warmed from their activities, as he caresses the silky smooth skin of her outer thigh, all the way down past her knee to her calf. Hitching her leg up over his hip, he bears down and grinds against her.

Poppy hums a moan and it's a delicious sound.

Her chin tips up as she seeks his mouth. Branch kisses her, his tongue tangling with hers and stoking the fire between them as she moves to undo his shorts. He moans as she bites at his lip and breaks the kiss to push the garment down over his hips. He kicks it to the floor without a second thought.

The crotch of her lingerie is still pushed to the side, and as she lifts her hips and pulls him down to her, his cock slides easily through her hot arousal.

She always feels so incredible, and he moves his hips to run the length of her while sinking down for another slow kiss. Her hands slide up and down his back, over his shoulders, and down his arms. He knows she appreciates the tone and flex of his muscles, the way his body works as he fucks her senseless. His skin tingles under her touch, and he angles her head so he can kiss her more deeply.

He's so lost in her kiss, in the feel of his hard cock sliding along her slick heat, that it takes him by surprise when she lifts her hips and pushes at his shoulder, rolling them in one surprisingly elegant motion.

He's impressed, and Poppy looks smug as she settles on his thighs, sending him a sultry smirk. He reaches for her hips, returning her smile with a raised eyebrow, and she shrugs.

"I thought you might like the view."

And oh, how right she is.

Poppy looks like a queen atop her throne, and he loves it when she's both confident and playful. His cock twitches with want, and he desires nothing more than to be buried deep inside her.

Leaning forward, she trails her fingers down the hard plains of his chest and abs until her hand curls around him. Her grip is firm, and he hisses at the contact. She slowly slides her hand up his hard length, coated in her desire. Her thumb passes over the sensitive tip, gathering the fluid that's beaded there and spreading it over the head in circular strokes.

She hums, her sparkling pink eyes full of mischief as she shifts down his legs and bends forward to wrap her plump lips around him. Branch chokes on a moan and is unable to keep his hips from thrusting into the wet heat of her mouth.

Reaching out, he pushes her bangs away from her face so he can watch as she pleasures him. Poppy braces herself with one hand on his hip, while the other holds his cock steady. As she runs the flat of her tongue up the underside of his erection, her dark gaze locks with his. It's incredibly sexy, and his cock twitches violently in her grasp.

Wrapping her lips around him, she drags her mouth up and down his shaft, and he is so close, so incredibly turned on by the sight of her in lace, the taste of her pleasure on his tongue, and the new wave of hot arousal, slippery slick on his thigh as she goes down on him.

Poppy takes him as deep as she can, hollowing her cheeks, and he gasps her name, a warning that he is close. She hums around him and increases her pace until he cries out, tumbling hard and fast over the edge mere moments later, his hips faltering as she slowly works him through it. Releasing him with a wet pop, she stretches to drop a kiss to his hip bone.

Branch watches through heavy-lidded eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the boneless feeling of post-orgasm bliss. Poppy kisses up his stomach, around the smattering of freckles on his chest, his collarbone, his neck. He giggles as the ends of her hair tickle his sensitive skin. Her answering rumble vibrates against his neck, and he tilts his head to the side to give her more room, enjoying the affection.

As she lifts her head to peer down at his face, the curtain of her hair falls around them, shrouding them from everything but each other. Continuing her journey, Poppy plants kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. She rubs the tip of her nose against his and then kisses the curve of his lips.

When they part, Branch whispers I love you into the small space between them, and his stomach flips when her eyes crinkle at the edges as her mouth pulls up into a smile that matches his own.

The easy way she says it back takes his breath away. Like it's a truth she knows so implicitly that the words fall from her lips without thought. Like her love for him is simply a part of who she is.

She keeps their foreheads close as she reaches between them and wraps her hand around him. Poppy kisses her boyfriend slowly as she pumps his length, and heat swirls low in his abdomen.

Moaning softly as he grows hard in her hand, she kisses up his jawline and exhales a hot and breathy whisper into his ear. "I want you inside me."

Her teeth scrape the shell of cartilage as she drags her mouth down, pulling his earlobe between her lips and sucking. A wave of fresh arousal surges through him as his hips buck at her words.

"Yes," Branch immediately agrees. He wants it too. More than anything.

Poppy drags his cock the length of her slit once, twice, three times, making sure to hit her clit with each pass. She sits back so he can watch as she lifts her hips and guides him into tight velvet heat.

As she braces herself on his stomach, his eyes are glued to her face. The way her pleasure plays out across her features as she sinks down on him slowly, taking him inch by inch, is an enchanting sight to behold, and he is riveted.

They moan together as she settles, taking a moment to adjust to the stretch of him inside her. She paints such a gorgeous picture—it takes all of his willpower to keep still.

Finally, finally, the queen troll starts to roll her hips. He smooths his hands up and down her sides as she starts an indulgent rhythm, loving a slow buildup.

Poppy lifts herself up and sinks back down, ending each movement with a languid roll of her hips. He grips her waist, letting her dictate the pace for now, even though all he wants to do is drive up into her.

The sounds leaving her lips are intoxicating and make his head spin.

Branch draws his other hand up her belly to cover her breast. The weight of it feels nice in his palm, the scratch of the lace, the poke of her hard nipple. He squeezes the flesh and watches her throw her head back at the sensation.

Her breathing grows ragged above him as she picks up the pace. Poppy doesn't break eye contact as she rides him, even as her eyes become heavy-lidded with mounting pleasure.

Urging her on, he slides one hand down to cup her ass. He releases her breast so that his other hand can join at the small of her back, helping to guide her movements. Branch hasn't had the chance yet to appreciate the back of the lingerie, the crisscrossing ties over the small of her back, framing her toned, round ass.

Later, he thinks, he wants to take her from behind; perhaps bend her over his way. He imagines his hands sliding around her lace-covered front, one hand on her belly the other wrapped around her breast. He'll admire the expanse of her mostly bare back against a backdrop of sleek, polished wood, his hips slapping against her ass as he pounds into her.

For now, Branch plants his feet and bends his knees, giving him leverage to meet each of her movements.

Her hand dances up her belly, replacing his on her breast. She squeezes hard and then tweaks her nipple.

Poppy looks magnificent towering above him with her head thrown back, expletives and moans and his name slipping past parted lips as he drags her back and forth on his cock.

Branch enjoys the view for a second longer before the desire to have her close, to taste her lips, to swallow the sounds of her pleasure, becomes too strong to ignore.

"Come here," he says, sliding his hand up her back with slight pressure to indicate what he wants.

Poppy falls forward without protest, their pace never faltering. They're both close, and he knows the new angle will provide perfect friction to her clit as she slides against his lower belly, which is slick with her desire.

Poppy's face hovers above his; their noses bump while their breath mingles in the space between them. The lace she wears scratches pleasantly against his stomach with each movement of her hips.

She manages to press a tender kiss to his mouth, and it's the sweet way her lips brush his that sends him tumbling into an unexpected orgasm. Branch moans into her mouth, bucking his hips with little finesse as pleasure zips through him. Poppy's inner muscles contract around him as she cries out a mangled version of his name, her dark gaze glued to his as she follows him into euphoric bliss.

Poppy collapses on top of him, nuzzling into the curve of his throat. Branch feels her press a kiss to his blue sweaty skin as he wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her.

After a moment, Poppy lifts her face from his neck and props herself up on his chest. The slow, satisfied smile that spreads across her face tugs on his heartstrings.

If only Poppy knew the effect she had on him, the power she held over him. He's never wanted to belong to any troll. But he wants to belong to her.

Poppy's pink eyes sparkle as she traces the scruff of his chin with her fingers, then down the slope of his nose and the line of his brow—almost as if she's memorizing him by touch.

"Is that what this little number is all about then?" His fingers glide over the flowers that mark her skin. "Making me lose control?"

Poppy shrugs. He watches her brow scrunch as she considers the question. "Maybe a little."

"Oh?"

"I thought it was pretty, and I thought you'd like it."

"I love it," Branch confirms, dropping a kiss to her cheek.

Bushing, she continues. "Wearing it, and seeing your reaction to it… I liked the way it made me feel. Sexy and feminine and powerful."

"You look very sexy." Branch moves to kiss her other cheek, and then bites his lip. "But, darling, you always look sexy. I hope I've never made you feel as though I need-"

"You haven't," she promises, interrupting him with a shake of her head.

"Because all I need," Branch says earnestly, "is you."

Her eyes shine as she smiles, and she pulls him down to her, kissing him softly. "I know," she tells him, her nails scratching lightly through the hair at his nape. "You're all I need too, Branch." He was all she needed in her life. In a perfect world it was just them together forever. "I just want you to know that more lingerie is coming soon thanks to Satin and Chenille."

Envisioning the way she'd look in every type of lingerie has heat pooling low in his gut once more, and he licks his lips as he looks down at her. "Make them a gift basket for me."