Acquisition Agreement
The Call of a Lifetime.
Content Warning 🛑
This story explores psychological and sexual power dynamics between consenting adults. Recommended for mature readers (18+).
Claire sent him a quick message:
“Joel, are you still there? Richard is going to call me about the acquisition…
I just want to know I’m not alone in the office.”
It was getting dark. The forty-second-floor corner office glowed with the amber light of the setting sun reflecting off the neighboring glass towers. The air hummed with the low thrum of the HVAC, steady as her heartbeat. Behind her desk, a black leather couch faced the skyline—a corporate formality she’d always thought of as decoration, not comfort.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city spread out like a circuit board.
Claire adjusted her blazer, tugged lightly at the hem of her pencil skirt, and smoothed a hand over the desk. Everything in this office was deliberate. Composed. Controlled. She was a strong proponent of work-life balance, but she also believed some sacrifices were worth it every now and then.
This one was such a case.
She put her phone down and started going over the documents one last time when her phone vibrated.
It was Richard.
“Richard! Yes, I’m here—just finishing up some prep for tomorrow.”
“Working late again, Claire? You know, you remind me of myself thirty years ago—nothing but determination. But seeing the hour, I was half-expecting you’d be on your way home already.”
“Ha, you know me—couldn’t let you down. Also, someone has to make sure every detail is perfect. This is our biggest acquisition this year.”
She got up from her desk. She had developed a habit of walking while talking as a way to keep her mind engaged.
This call demanded her full attention.
She didn’t stay late purely out of loyalty to the company or pursuit of a promotion; closing this deal meant not having to worry about money for at least the next four to five years.
She exhaled—relaxing, took off her heels, then her blazer, and pulled her auburn hair into a ponytail—the severe style emphasizing her sharp cheekbones. The charcoal pencil skirt that had commanded boardroom attention all day suddenly felt like armor she no longer needed. Chances were the office was empty, so there was little risk of someone seeing her like that.
Well, almost empty—hopefully Joel hadn’t left yet.
But Joel was the least of her concerns at that moment.
“Indeed. Your work on the due diligence was exceptional—the client specifically mentioned how ‘impressively thorough’ you were,” Richard continued.
“Thank you, that means a lot. I think we’ve really positioned ourselves well here. The synergies alone will justify the premium.”
“Speaking of which, let’s run through the final terms...”
As Richard said that, she bent over her desk, resting one elbow on the mahogany still warm from the day’s work—her reflection barely visible in the polished surface between the neat stacks of acquisition documents—as she gathered the files she might need.
It was a neat collection of folders, forms, her notebook, and even her laptop at the opposite end of the desk, should she need to check something there.
She knew everything by heart.
She had been preparing for this call all day—and had been working months on this deal.
Still, she knew part of being prepared was having everything at hand in case memory failed.
“Sounds great. Ready when you are.”
Just as she said that, she felt a presence slowly approaching.
She knew that scent—the one that clung to expensive ambition and arrogance—his presence filled the doorway with his six-foot-two frame, with shoulders that looked equally at home in Armani or at the gym.
It was Joel.
Claire closed her eyes and thought to herself, Please, Joel, don’t do anything stupid.
“Okay, let me see… Let’s start here. Purchase-price adjustment mechanism?” asked Richard.
“Quarterly.”
She felt Joel’s body over her.
He had taken her position as an invitation—started grinding against her.
And she was doing her best to keep her composure.
Her mind screamed: I hate you, Joel, why would you do this now? while trying to focus on what Richard was saying.
“Working-capital target?”
“Eighty-five.”
Joel’s hands started pulling up her skirt—those big, strong hands of his—the same ones she’d watched command attention during board presentations, now commanding something else entirely.
She could feel her skirt rolling all the way up, exposing her to him.
Her heart was racing now.
Joel knew she’d be on that call—this was maybe the most important call in both their careers.
How could he be so fucking stupid?
So selfish?
So… manipulative?
Both Claire and Richard were heads of Legal and Joel knew it. And he still couldn’t keep it in his pants?
With Richard as the representative of the company they were acquiring, it was of the utmost importance for this call to go smoothly.
Yet the only thing going smoothly… was Joel unbuttoning his pants.
Richard must have picked up on something happening.
“You alright? You were more talkative a moment ago,” he said in an inquisitive tone.
“Just... pulling up the documents.”
As Joel pulled his pants down, Claire felt him touching her—reaching between her legs.
Every movement seemed both calculated and so… impulsive.
She was still in control of the call.
She just didn’t know how much longer she’d be in control of… herself.
“You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you? I wish a fraction of my junior partners had your foresight and discipline.” Richard’s tone was that of a proud mentor, crisp and oblivious. It was clear he respected Claire’s professionalism.
And just as Richard said that, she felt Joel go in.
“Yes! You know me… you know me very well, Richard.”
Her cheeks flushed.
She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Joel was smiling—that fucking smug smile of his.
Feeling so in control. Using her when he pleased. Just, what was going on in that sick mind of his?
Sick bastard.
He must be enjoying himself.
Taking his time with slow thrusts.
Savoring how she had to hide her shame.
Poor Richard. None the wiser.
“Ha! You know, your preparedness has made these negotiations actually enjoyable. Most counsel I deal with are still scrolling through spreadsheets at this hour.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Joel’s hands gripped her hips tightly.
The slow thrusts at least allowed her to keep some semblance of composure.
But damn if she wasn’t filled with rage inside.
Yes. Filled with rage—and fucking Joel… using her like his goddamn toy.
If anything but a moan escaped her lips, she’d be so humiliated.
What would Richard think?
“That stunt you pulled with the warranty schedules last week? My client’s still quoting it—I told them brilliance like that doesn’t come cheap.”
“Just... thorough research.”
Joel’s hands started moving under her blouse, exploring her body. His fingers ran along her skin—claiming every inch of it.
Her mind was racing—the only thing she still possessed.
Could Joel really be so stupid and ruin the call?
No. He knew. That’s why he was going slow.
This wasn’t pure impulsiveness.
It was torture.
Slow. Calculated.
She tried pep-talking herself: Focus, Claire, you can do this… just don’t let him distract you…
Another slow thrust.
Fingers tracing her skin.
Her mind wanted to disconnect and just surrender to the sensations.
But she wouldn’t let it happen, You got this, Claire… slimy Joel… I hate you.
It was a good thing Richard was reminiscing instead of talking about the acquisition.
“Don’t be modest. You’ve got killer instincts, Claire—lethal in a boardroom.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Claire couldn’t help but smile. Modest. What a great choice of words.
Joel gripped her hips again—stronger—like saying, ‘You belong to me.’
Claire’s contempt just kept rising with every move.
With every touch.
With every thrust.
She had to mind her breathing.
She stopped herself from crying—she squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions.
So much on the line—the acquisition, her reputation, everything she had fought for.
“If you ever get tired of your current firm, give me a call—I could use someone who doesn’t blink under pressure.”
She couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes harder.
“A-appreciate that, Richard.”
Joel put his hand on her back and pushed her against the desk—firm enough so she couldn’t resist, gentle enough so it wouldn’t make a sound.
He really loved seeing the arch on her back.
Claire’s hate shot up again.
He was maximizing his pleasure with every move—and every move just added one more emotion to the cocktail of shame taking over her.
She felt so helpless.
She hadn’t felt so small in such a long time.
The softest hum left her lips.
“I know what’s going on Claire…” said Richard.
“You d-do?” asked Claire, feeling her soul leave her body.
Had Richard realized she wasn’t alone in the office?
That she was being utterly used as an object for Joel’s pleasure?
Goddamn you, Joel! You did it!
Do you know how you’re going to make us look now? How are you going to make our company look?
VP of Finance having his way with the Head of Legal?
She’d never get hired anywhere again!
She’d lose her license!
“Yes. I’ve been right where you are, Claire—trying to please others, working late…”
So many months of preparation for nothing—so many years of work for nothing.
All gone because the man using her couldn’t contain himself.
The one day she needed him to think with his head…
Everything was vanishing in front of her eyes, and while she did her best not to cry, Joel kept thrusting.
Richard continued, “... and I’m here getting sidetracked and making you waste your time.”
Her free hand reached her face, wiping tears that burned her skin before pressing against her mouth.
Claire had to swallow even the faintest sigh of relief to keep her composure.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to, Richard…”
But she felt her soul return to her body.
The relief she felt at that moment… she had never felt it so intense.
But the relief didn’t last long.
With her soul returned came an increasing hate for Joel.
Reckless horny idiot.
Dirty bastard.
Tall, strong, sexy moron.
Did he not see what almost happened?
And he didn’t care!
He just kept thrusting… touching… seizing with wanton abandon.
His fingers, so hard on her waist, were a demonstration—she couldn’t escape him.
He had complete freedom—she was losing hers with every thrust of his.
As if to drive the point home—another thrust.
Methodical.
Richard, still ignoring Claire’s predicament, continued with the conversation.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. Now, about the IP warranties—we’ll need alignment on carve-outs for any pre-existing litigation...”
Claire’s hand found Joel’s thigh and pressed firmly—her only hope to reach the fucking idiot inside her.
She needed to respond to this with more than mumbles and half-assed answers. Richard would surely find out if she messed it up.
This was her only hope… her only way to beg him…
Joel paused.
Joel… paused?
“Yes! Umm… the carve-outs cover any litigation filed before the closing date, with a disclosure schedule attached.”
Her voice was as clear and confident as it had been at the beginning of the call.
A rush of adrenaline ran through Claire’s body. Her mind was split—just like her legs—but that was a full-sentence response—not a whimper.
She still had some level of control...
And then… another thrust—a reminder that whatever control she had could be taken away—with just one thrust of his.
Her hand shot out to grab the edge of her desk.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to focus again.
“Good. Let’s confirm the indemnification period—eighteen months, correct?”
“That’s right… eighteen months.”
Joel was picking up the rhythm again—a marching rhythm.
It was deliberate.
Damn you, Joel.
His hand reached her bra clasp—and unclipped it.
The irony of him freeing part of her body—for his free use of it.
If only she could pause the call, she’d beg him…
Sure, his fucking ego would love that, but she didn’t care now.
All she could think about was how Joel was reaching out to her most sensitive area…
Was it a threat?
If he squeezed the right way, she’d be lost—there would be nothing on this Earth that could stop her from moaning…
All the effort she had put into being in control—for naught.
Gone with just one pinch, twist or squeeze.
Oh, how she hated Joel—and poor Richard just kept talking...
“Now the board wants to cap the earn-out at twenty million. Optics, you know.”
“No!” The word slipped out as Joel’s fingers were about to reach her nipple.
Damn you, Joel!
See what you did? Now what would Richard think?
“Excuse me?” Richard seemed startled.
Despite her momentary loss of control, her instincts kicked in.
She remembered—she could still save it.
“I mean... no, we agreed. Forty million. That’s... that’s firm.”
Firm. Was she talking only about the decision?
“That’s final,” she added with authority.
What was left of it—the little he hadn’t taken from her yet.
By that evil, sadistic Joel.
Enjoying himself while she fought so hard!
She managed to save it, but she was starting to feel her body giving up...
Surrendering to that evil bastard.
Calculating bastard.
His pace had been slow and steady, but it was picking up.
He wouldn’t hold much longer…
And neither would she.
“You’re quite passionate about this—refreshing to see that kind of fire in counsel these days.”
Oh, good old Richard. Passionate—another excellent choice of words. If only you knew...
“It’s important. We can’t... we can’t give ground now.”
She was doing her best to sound strong—a sharp contrast to how weak she felt beneath Joel’s dominance.
It was a good last-minute save and now she needed to put on the performance to back it up.
All the while, Joel’s hand reached for her ponytail.
It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with the control he had until then.
Claire didn’t know what to think… was it on purpose?
He pulled her hair, claiming more control, just as she had saved them twenty million?
It had to be intentional—a reminder that as long as he was there, she was his.
Cruel Joel.
Merciless asshole.
No wasted action.
“I knew you’d push back—I told the board you had character, the kind that doesn’t yield under pressure.” Richard seemed impressed.
If only he knew what was being pushed into her as they spoke.
Joel pulled her head by the ponytail and grabbed Claire’s only free arm, holding it against her back.
This was it—she was completely restricted now.
Claire was doing everything she could to keep herself together.
But she knew she wouldn’t last long—she was at her breaking point.
“Well... tell the board... to respect our agreement.”
“I will, Claire. You know I’m just doing my job asking. Let’s move on, shall we?”
“Let’s do that.” Her voice was stern.
Joel picked up the pace.
His thrusts were getting faster.
Harder.
His breathing was agitated.
He was also holding down grunts and moans.
She felt her whole body pressed hard against the desk.
Under any other circumstance, her mind would be completely blank.
But no—Joel had decided that today she’d suffer.
It took everything in her to focus, but she knew the call was near the end.
“Escrow release schedule?”
“Twenty-four months.”
She bit her lip.
Holding her moans, everything pressed harder—the thrusts, her pulse, her restraint.
Everything felt harder.
Joel’s pull of her hair…
His grip on her arm…
Everything.
Harder.
“Anti-dilution provisions?”
“Standard... weighted... average.”
Joel was going faster.
She shut her eyes.
Then her mouth.
Joel pushed harder.
Claire knew what that meant… for Joel… and for her…
Faster thrusts.
She could feel Joel pushing his head back… almost there…
She kept still. He didn’t stop.
“Last item—the closing conditions, are they all filled up? I know it’s late, but we might as well tie this bow while we’re here.” Richard continued.
In one swift move, Joel’s hand covered her mouth. Claire dropped her phone; it clattered onto the floor.
Another thrust.
Hard.
She felt Joel inside her—absolute, shuddering release.
For a fraction of a second, her mind went blank.
The sound coming from her was both unrestrained and muffled.
One more thrust.
Her moan would have echoed had he not covered her mouth.
Last thrust.
He let go of her—she rushed to grab her phone back.
“Hello? Are you there?” Richard sounded concerned.
“Richard! I’m so sorry—I was pacing and just... I’d taken my heels off and caught my toe on the desk leg. You know how that is.”
“Good lord, that’s the worst. Are you alright?”
“Yes, just... the pain is subsiding. Where were we?”
She was doing her best to put herself back together, trying to fix her blouse, pulling her pencil skirt back down.
“The closing conditions…”
“All filled… yes, that’s right,” interrupted Claire. “Is that it?”
She heard Joel holding a laugh behind her.
“We’re done. Excellent work. You sound different—adrenaline from the pain, or just the thrill of victory?”
“Something like that. I’m just... really pleased with how this all came together.”
“Get some rest, Claire. We’ll make history tomorrow.”
“Oh, I will. Thank you, Richard. Have a good evening.”
Claire hung up the phone.
Finally, the call was over. Now it was Joel’s turn.
She turned around.
He had already pulled his pants back up.
He almost looked like nothing had happened, were it not for his flushed face and the sweat running down his forehead.
He was already standing mere steps away from her, fixing his tie, a faint smirk on his lips. His face glowed in the low light—pride and arrogance made flesh.
“You fucking asshole! How could you?”
“Excellent work, Claire. I take it we closed the acquisition.”
“Oh no, you’re not...”
“We have an agreement of our own—do you need a reminder?”
She hated him so much, but she was so thankful he didn’t talk while he fucked her.
Had he said anything with that deep tenor of his, she didn’t know if she would have been able to hold out that long.
She almost smiled. Maybe she’d been counting on his arrogance.
“Don’t you dare bring up...”
“Any time. Any place. That was the agreement.”
“I know what the agreement was! But...”
“We said no heels, skirt, and ponytail while at the office meant go...”
“Joel, listen to me!” her voice caught between plea and demand.
“Why didn’t you tell Richard you couldn’t talk?”
“You know how important that call was...”
He pulled her close—hugged her, held her in his arms, comforting her.
“He would have understood. He knew he was calling late,” said Joel.
“I know...” She finally allowed herself to be vulnerable.
“See... you chose to stay in the call.”
“I hate you.”
He grabbed her face and kissed her, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
His eyes glimmered as he studied her face. The look in his eyes said it all—he was so proud of himself.
“I know you do,” he said, proud of her too.
He kissed her again.
“You did a great job.”
“Yes. I know I did.” Her voice steady—the same tone she used to close deals.
Then she pulled him for one more kiss.
This time she didn’t have to hold back.
And he would get to experience just how much she hated him...
In one motion, she pushed him backward. The surprise wiped the smirk off his face as he fell onto the leather cushions. She followed, slow and deliberate, knees pressing against his thighs, her hands gripping his shoulders.
His breath hitched—not from dominance, but from realization.
“I told you,” she whispered, leaning close enough for her words to sting, “that I hated you.”
Her voice dripped with control, with precision—the same tone she used to close multimillion-dollar deals—the same tone she used when she was setting the terms.
“You almost cost us twenty million.”
“Please—you had everything under control…” with that damn arrogant smile of his.
She climbed over Joel and kissed him hard, almost desperate.
He’d had his release.
Now she would have hers.
She would have… him.
“Closing deals sure gives you a rush,” he managed, still trying to sound playful.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.
“Was there something more important than the deal, Joel?” she asked, one brow arched.
He wanted a reaction. She gave him composure instead.
Like he hadn’t done anything… at all.
Before he could answer, she caught his tie and pulled him close—firm.
“We’ll make history tomorrow,” she murmured—Richard’s oblivious words, now hers.
She was overflowing with excitement—the excitement you get when you close a big deal.
Outside, the city lights shimmered on the glass—gold fading into steel; in the reflection, she tossed her ponytail—master closer, savoring the success of her preparation.
— Cae Rivas —
Every deal has its fine print—remember to review your contracts. 😉
What stood out to you most—the deal, the power, or the silence?
In the mood for more? Good. A poem for dessert? I gotcha:
Thanks to Darkly Dreaming Klar Nett for beta reading it.
And thank you for reading, for your time, and for being you. 😎
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