In Name Only: Cruel Deception

Author's note: Cruel Deception is Walter and Vivian's story. It is companion to In Name Only-The Journal of Margret Ford. Characters involved in sexual activity are 18 years and older. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons are purely coincidental. Enjoy!

Awakenings-Oaksberth, 1946

It is not precisely known to him when he became aware of it. Perhaps it had always been there, waiting to emerge from the depths of his subconscious. He considered himself to be a normal man with the usual hopes and dreams. He suffered no secret emotional traumas during childhood, and could not lay claim to lax or emotionally deficient parents. His life is, and has been, in every respect, untroubled and reasonably content, until now.

How does a perfectly normal man find himself in a situation of this nature? How does a man of sound intellect become consumed with forbidden desires? Is it because the light scent of jasmine and musk twists his stomach in knots every time she walks into a room, or maybe the soft cadence of her voice which sends tingles down his spine whenever she spoke to him, or the way her smile animated her exquisite features, or can it be the way his temperature rose whenever they innocently embrace. It's all of that and more...much, much more.

Of course, he understood what he was up against. Society shuns the very idea of such illicit behavior. And what of his father's reaction when it is made known to him? Will he disown him and turn him out of his life? And what of her, will she refuse him? Can he convince her to receive him? After suffering through the anguish of reasoning, Walter accepted that none of that mattered. She is what he wanted. She is what he'll have.

The difficulty of remaining quiet has become worse now that his heart is settled. He spends his nights tossing and turning, his mind trapped in hot erotic dreams. Night after night, he awakens with her name on his lips and his loins aflame and needing release. And night and after night, he gets out of bed, leaves his room and walks determinedly to hers only to turn away before his hand touches the door knob.

It's impossible to contain this emotional bomb inside him any longer. He didn't choose this love, he wouldn't have chosen it. It chose him. He was irrevocably in love with her, and he intended to make it known.

But first he had to get rid of his father's latest discovery for Vivian's hand. The man was well versed in idle conversation. He was smooth and entertaining and she was clearly taken with him. Her delighted laughter incited his jealousy, and urged him to interrupt their little tête•-à-tête before it developed into something he'd be forced to destroy.

Walter's sudden appearance caused a sudden lull in the lunching couple's laughter. His imposing presence captured their immediate attention.

Vivian welcomed her brother's unexpected appearance. "Walter...you're home." She said with a warm smile. "Have you met Roland Mitchell?" She pointed toward the young man sitting opposite of her.

Roland was not so pleased by the intrusion, but he retained a polite mask. Confident of his welcome, he stood and offered a hand in greeting. "I say, Walter—"

Walter deliberately ignored the man's hand. He sauntered over the bar to pour a drink. "So... you're Roland Mitchell."

"I am." Roland responded pompously.

"Are you, perhaps, of the New York Mitchells?" Walter eyed him suspiciously.

Roland's chest puffed out. "Indeed, I am—although, occasionally, I am sure, my mother wishes I were not." He grinned, winking playfully at Vivian.

Walter observed him coolly. He detested the man's easy charm. "The same Mitchells who lost their fortune in the crash?" He asked, smiling sardonically. He enjoyed watching his rival's smile fall flat. He wanted Roland to brag about his family's many accomplishments. He welcomed the opportunity to divulge all he knows about the lofty Mitchells.

Roland blushed scarlet. "Well, yes, but not all of our assets were lost... and we've recovered since then." He said, casting a nervous glance at Vivian. "We've thrown our hat into textiles now. Mitchell's Textiles is now the largest supplier of cloth to our brave soldiers in uniform." He glanced at Vivian, a smug smile pasted to his face. "War is exceedingly profitable, my dear."

"Is it?" Vivian responded, not at all certain she cared for the way the Mitchells made their fortune.

"Why, yes, we've—"

"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to add the Ellison fortune to your recovery efforts, would it?" Walter threw in.

Roland stiffened. "Pardon me?" he said in an injured tone.

"Walter, behave yourself," Vivian admonished, embarrassed for her guest, "I'm certain Mr. Mitchell is above such dishonest behavior. "

"Are you?" Walter sipped his drink, his hard gaze still on his quarry.

"Of course he is." Vivian said, facing her guest for confirmation. "Isn't that right, Roland?"

Roland fidgeted with his collar, he face and neck felt uncomfortably warm. "Uh, I-I, yes, of course, I wouldn't dream—"

Walter recognized a fortune hunter when he saw one. This puffed up bastard won't get a cent of his sister's fortune. "Vivian's inheritance is controlled by my father. He will only release it when he is confident of her intended?"

Roland was slightly taken aback. "I don't understand—"

"I guess he didn't tell you." Walter studied the golden colored liquid in his glass. "Simply put, Roland Mitchell of the New York Mitchells, Vivian will marry without her fortune in tow. Whoever wins her hand will have to support her until such time as father and I are comfortable with her choice."

A brief flash of anger crossed the other man's face, but he recovered quickly. Smiling tightly he said. "That's unusual isn't it, an heiress without a fortune."

"Is it?" He was sick of this game. "Perhaps you should run along now, Mitchell," Walter said rudely. "There's nothing here for you."

Vivian cast a shocked glance at her brother. "Walter that isn't necessary... Roland has posed a legitimate question—"

"Oh, but it is necessary, isn't Mitchell?" Walter's voice held a thinly veiled threat.

Roland stared at him for long moments. He'd like nothing more than to take the bastard down for humiliating him in front of Vivian. Walter cobalt eyes glittered back at him, hard and calculating, ready to strike. Vivian's gaze swung between the two men, baffled by their instantaneous animosity.

Walter watched his prey, waiting for a confrontation he'd take great pleasure in. He'd love nothing more than to diminish him further in his sister's eyes.

Roland did not scare easily. Years of ingratiated himself to the rich has awarded him a tough hide, but the merciless cunning in the other man's eyes was a challenge he could not afford to meet at this point in time. Talk of his family's financial woes spreading about society must be avoided. It is vitally important he marry a woman of means, as soon as possible. It appears Vivian , while tantalizingly beautiful, does not have the complete package. Pity.

"Yes, perhaps it is. In any case, mother's expecting me within the hour. Mustn't keep her waiting, you know." Roland said, rising from the chair. When he reached the door, he turned around to give Vivian an apologetic smile. "Thank you, dear Vivian, for a most delicious lunch. Perhaps we'll meet again sometime."

"Oh, that would be—"Vivian began, ready to compensate him for her brother's behavior.

"Don't count on it, Mitchell." Walter cut in smoothly. "My sister's fortune is not available for your use so your return is unnecessary and most unwelcome."

Vivian gasped, stunned by the extent of her brother's hostility towards a man he scarcely knows. "Walter, that is entirely uncalled for—"

"That's quite alright, Vivian." Roland said, his red face twisted with hostility. "Walter, I shall not offend you with my presence any longer." The bastard was pretty sharp. He felt cheated to have his scheme found out so quickly. He'd at least wanted an opportunity to slide between her slim white thighs a few times before he'd been found out—he'd have enjoyed it very, very much. "Goodbye, my dear."

"Goodbye Mr. Mitchell." She rounded on her brother as soon as Roland was gone. "What has gotten into you, Walter? Why did you treat Roland so atrociously?"

Walter poured himself another whiskey and gulped it down. "He's not the one for you." He said tightly, pouring himself another whiskey.

"Don't be daft, Walter, of course he is. Father picked him out. He's perfect for me." Of course, she didn't believe for a minute Roland was right for her, but she was angry with her brother for treating him so foully. Vivian snatched what would have been Walter's third shot of whiskey from his and slammed it down on the bar. "You were unbearably rude, Walter—"

He stared at her moist, plump lips while she reproached him for his displeasing behavior. The need to taste her was too strong to ignore. He snatched her into his arms and closed his mouth over hers, swallowing her surprised yelp with ruthless intent. He devoured her with previously untapped hunger. Never has he wanted a thing more. He growled as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, swiping along her sleek, honeyed mouth, entwining his tongue around hers, forcing her to admit him.

Vivian's brain exploded; bright, brilliant colors swirled behind her closed lids. Her nipples pebbled to needy nubs and moisture generously soaked her panties. She clung to him, unable to stop herself from kissing him back. Walter kissed her for long minutes, clutching her tightly in his arms, giving her no room to escape him. Vivian had no thought of escape; she was utterly spellbound by her brother's bruising kisses.

Now that his hunger was being fed, he became a glutton for more. His intention was to undo the buttons her blouse, but their father's approaching footsteps forestalled him. He released Vivian, staring into her passion glaze eyes while he fought to gain control of his breathing and his emotions.

Vivian heard their father as well, but she was slower to react. Dazed and having difficulty coming to her senses, she tottered to the other side of the room and dropped into a chair. What has gotten into him? Where did that come from... and why did she allow it? It would have been right to scream out in disgust and outrage, to slap his face in retaliation, but she did neither. She'd kissed him back.

Vivian stared at him; disbelief, bewilderment, and desire were all plainly visible in her dark blue orbs. Her entire body hummed with newly awakened sensations—sensations she'd never dreamed to entertain for her own brother.

"Well...what do you think?" Joseph Ellison asked as he entered the room. He was an older version of his son, but still quite handsome. "Is he acceptable?"

Walter still burned for her, but, he, too, wanted an answer to that question. "I don't know, father," he replied, studying his sister. "What do you think Vivian...is he the one?"

Vivian licked her swollen lips, flushing when she tasted Walter on them. "I'm not sure." She managed absently, her thoughts was still on their kiss.

"Walter, what do we know about—" Joseph stopped in mid-sentence, frowning at his daughter heightened color. "My dear, are you feeling feverish? You're awfully flushed."

Vivian blushed even brighter. "I-I'm fine," she assured him, although she did feel very hot and uncomfortable in her skin. "I don't imagine Roland is right for me, father."

"No, he isn't." Walter agreed, staring at her pouty lips and nipples pushing against her blouse. His cock twitched eagerly. "The Mitchells are on a hunt for a fortune, but they'll not be getting their hands on Vivian's."

"Are you certain of this?" Joseph asked, frowning.

"Yes, I've made inquiries." Walter said firmly. "They need an heiress. Their textile business has not been especially profitable these past two years."

"What a shame," Joseph said, genuinely disappointed. Eligible bachelors were becoming a scarcity. There was a defect in all of them, according to Walter's estimation. He'd really hoped this last fellow would pass muster. "There's not many left to choose from, my dear. Perhaps—"

"I'm sorry, father." Vivian interrupted quickly; she could not stand to hear of another of her father's choices right now. Her mind and body was in an upheaval. She had to get away from them—from Walter. She had to think. "If you don't mind, I think I'll take a nap."

About to object, Joseph took a second look at her. Her color was awfully high. "Of course, Vivian, you go and have a rest."

"Thank you, father." She hurried out, choosing to avoid her brother's gaze as she passed by him.

Walter was hard pressed to follow her and finish what they'd started, but it was too soon. He had to allow her a little space to come to terms with his new role in her life. It will be profoundly different that that of a brother.

"You know, Walter," Joseph said, while pouring himself a drink, "I've been giving some thought to Buxley's boy. Yes, I realize he's a year younger than Vivian, but I'm almost certain he'll make a fine husband. What do you think, son?"

Annoyed, Walter glared at his father. How many buffoons will I have to get rid of before I can claim her as mine?

*****

Oaksbeth had finally settled down for the night. Everyone, including the servants, had finally gone to bed. And except for, the soft ticking of his great-grandmother's grandfather clock situated at the end of the hall, and Joseph's muffled shouts and mournful groans, all was silent as he walked the long hallway to his sister's room.

Joseph's muffled cry brought him to a halt. His father sounded as if he were in agony...as he always did. As a child, he'd listen to his mother soothing murmurs while he stood outside their door. He once asked his father what caused the dreams that plagued him night after night. Joseph would dismiss his nightmares as nothing. Blaming them on something he ate which hadn't agreed with him. Walter grew up thinking his father must eat an awful lot of disagreeable food.

But as he got older, he began to understand and realize that his father suffered from a great loss and there was nothing anyone could do to help him, especially when he remained unforthcoming as to whom he lost and how he lost them.

Walter continued on to his sister's room. He put his ear to the door to see if she stirred. There was no sound of movement. Taking a deep breath, he silently entered her room, shed his pajama bottoms, and carefully joined her in the bed.

Vivian tensed up when she heard him enter her room. Should she order him away? Did she want to? Was it wrong to allow her brother such liberties? Of course it is, Vivian! She admonished herself, silently. And what will you do if father finds out? She's been asking herself those questions all evening, but had no clear answers to them. She wanted to kiss him again, that she did know. She remained still as he slipped into her bed.

Her stomach fluttered nervously when he wrapped his powerful arms around her, tucking her into his body. When she felt something hard press against her behind, she broke her silence. "W-What's that...?" she gasped softly.

"Shhh...just relax, my love, let me feel you..." Walter kissed her neck and ear; he kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples. He forced her on her back and rose above her, pulling her gown apart to reveal her dusky tipped globes, quivering stomach and thatch of silky dark hair covering her moist lower lips. "Flawless ..." he breathed, in awe of her beauty.

Vivian's heart raced under her brother's gleaming eyes. "Walter...I-I'm not sure—"

"I love you, Vivian... I want you...give in to me..." He slowly twirled his tongue around her turgid nipples, laving, nipping and sucking them into his mouth.

Vivian arched off the bed gasping for breath; her brother is the first man to have his way with her virginal breasts.

"Oh god, darling...you're so sweet..." he whispered, licking and sucking her nubs. His hands roughly roamed her soft flesh, caressing her soft thighs and plump little ass. "You're perfect, darling...so sexy..."

"W-Walter..." she moaned, submitting to her longings. She writhed under him, besieged by countless sensations racking her body

Her soft surrender energized him. His dick was wet and ready to plunder. He nudged her thighs apart and settled between them, rubbing his plump helmet against her slick pussy. "Let me in, darling...let me love you..." he begged thickly, pushing into her heat.

"Stop, stop!" She gasped, panicking. "I-I-you can't—you're my brother. We can't do that!" But her body was perfectly attuned to his, instinctually rising to meet his hard flesh, her lush frame quaking with need.

Walter ass tensed, he ached to thrust inside her. "Shhh, my love, it will only hurt a moment—"

"No, no, stop Walter...you mustn't!" she panted, pushing against his chest.

His stomach clenched, restraint was painful; he was primed to fuck. "—just a little ways, love, just—"

"No! No! You can't...not ever, Walter!" She squirmed hungrily under him, but she was determined to do what's right and not give in to unthinkable temptations. "P-Promise, Walter, promise we won't ever go that far..."

He won't promise her, but he won't force her either. He loved her too much to harm her in that way. Biting back a harsh curse, Walter reluctantly removed his cock from her alluring heat. "I'll try," he said in a rough voice, "for now."

"No, no... we must never—" She lost her train of thought when Walter moved his heavy dick against her slick folds. "Oh...."

"Shhh, darling..." he whispered, lightly nipping her lips, "open your mouth...." Vivian willingly succumbed to his kisses, wondering if she was strong enough to maintain the promise she'd extracted from him.

*****

Vivian hugged an overstuffed pillow in her arms. She was sexually awakened, sensitized, energized and wholly unsatisfied. Walter had left her in this state; he'd rubbed his thick penis against pussy until she'd thought she'd scream for wanting him inside her. He'd held her to tightly when he ejaculated a warm, milky substance on her aching mound. She'd been bewildered by the suddenness of it all, and shocked to feel such an intimate act coming from her own brother.

She'd also been excited, and terrified and so close to capitulating. Her tunnel walls had clenched and pulsated, she'd felt so painfully unfilled that she cried in his arms. Walter had kissed her and asked her if she'd like to change her mind. She told him no. When he slid his fingers between her slippery folds, she became skittish and pushed him away. Walter realized that he'd gone to far too soon, so he'd held her and soothed her until the intensity of her desire ebbed away.

She did tell him, however, that she was willing to continue doing the things they'd done tonight. He agreed, and then he tenderly kissed her and slipped out of her room. There can be no harm in touching one another as long as it remained innocent...well, somewhat innocent.

Walter is a devastatingly handsome man. But she'd had no idea how devastating until she saw him fully nude. Broad shoulders, wide muscled chest, tapered waist and powerful legs and... his penis was long and thick with heavy veins running the length of it, and the tip resembled a huge helmet. She squeezed the pillow tighter as the memory filled her with longing. Yes, a little heavy petting wouldn't hurt anyone...

Beau Buxley's Closet

Six months—six frustrating months since he initiated his sister into the delights of the flesh and, still, he has yet to penetrate her silken walls. He is fast losing patience. Vivian constant resistance is driving him mad. And, in addition to that, he has to deal with his father's unending mission to marry her off.