The moment their bedroom door is closed behind them, Branch leans over her shoulder, so close that Poppy feels the little hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. His breath is warm on the shell of her ear, and before Poppy can turn to look at him, his lips ghost over her earlobe. She giggles.

"You're so romantic," Poppy says, but she's long known that. Branch commits himself indelibly to whatever task is before him, and lovemaking is no different.

"Thank you," Branch says, scarcely distracted away from her skin. The teal troll murmurs "I like that dress on you" and the compliment settles on her like a warm blanket, and she leans back against him with a smile blossoming on her face.

"Thank you," The Pop Queen says. "I think it's my new favorite."

"I should hope so," Branch says, still lingering close. She feels one of his broad hands settle on her waist, fingers splayed, and it slides down to her hip. She can hear the intrigue on his voice: "It's very well tailored. It must have taken a number of fittings to get it just... so."

Branch nibbles on her earlobe and then kisses his way to the side of her neck, where the turtleneck collar of her dress stops him.

"I thought you'd like it," Poppy says, as his hands both rove down her hips, smoothly, and she leans into his arms, against his broad chest.

"I do. However, I have one complaint," Branch says, about as close to teasing as he ever gets. The survivalist breathes his deeply as his hands span her thighs, curving her with him as he reaches. Poppy folds herself against him easily, pressed back against his hips.

"Oh?" she asks, mischievous.

Branch slides his fingers along the bottom hem, dragging it up scarcely an inch or two. The Pop Queen feels a flush settling on her cheeks, and he lets the fabric rest mere inches below her panties. The air is cool in their drafty bedroom, but she hardly feels it with his hand so close. Poppy can't help but giggle again.

Branch brushes the side of her face with his nose. She leans into his gaze, catching the look in his eyes –– stern, loving.

"A little short, isn't it?"

"Maybe a little," Poppy says. "Don't you like that?"

The Pop Queen stretches a little in his arms, deliberately pressing herself into his lap, and Branch drags a palm against her bare thigh, up so high that Poppy's dress rides up to her hip.

"There's a certain appeal in it," Branch says, low and dark. "You're a real minx, aren't you?"

Poppy giggles, and she reaches up to rake her fingers through his hair, clutching his head close to her.

"I got it for you," she says. "Because I'm YOUR little minx."

The teal troll hums in her ear, warm and agreeable, and that hand on her thigh slides to her panties, where his fingers trace the waistband. Poppy arches her back.

"It'll look more conservative with my coat on," she says. "And my belt, and some accessories... no one will know, so it's your little secret."

"Would you have me distracted in battle, thinking of that?" Branch whispers.

Branch reaches with one hand to pull down her collar, so that he can put his mouth to her neck, to a spot that will be thoroughly hidden.

"Your conviction will carry you through," Poppy murmurs, and then gasps when he fits his lips to the soft spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Branch kisses and sucks gently, his mouth hot on her skin, and he squeezes her through her panties, just once.

"My little secret, then," Branch hums when he's left a mark, wet and throbbing. He whispers to her, again: "My little Poppy, hmm?"

"All yours," Poppy says, breathily. And, with her fingers dug into his forearm, she says: "And you're all mine."

"I see no mark proving it," Branch tells her, and he lets her pull away in order to turn in his arms. He leans back against the table's edge, and she deliberately stands with his thigh between hers, her little dress still hiked up. His thigh is muscular, strong; Poppy straddles him when they stand like that, and the friction alone gets her wet. With eager, nimble fingers, Poppy reaches to his vest and takes it off. Along with his tank top.

And with his hand roving up her back and his breath rising a little, Poppy marks him too, right below the line of his collar, where no troll else gets to see but her.