hellorhighwater | [GENESSIA] Inbox

NEIL BLAIR
Black Fire of the Night Dragon
Kingslayer
Dragon Mage

(Spillover for threads, muse contact, mun contact--circle all that apply.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

hellorhighwater

That caress made him smile with its familiarity—how she’d driven him to distraction the first night they spent together, exercising power over him even then...

Neil hissed softly as she rested her foot against his erection, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers stilled on her leg. It was a light touch, careful, but enough to wipe his mind clean of everything but the urge to rut against it, to chase that promise of more. It was almost enough to draw him back down into his own head, to let her have him however she wanted—even if that was not at all.

His own stomach chose that moment to growl then, audibly, ensuring that Regina’s word would be law without the fun part.

Grinning, Neil bent his head to kiss her knee, then started to rise so he could finish with the food—and grit his teeth when his knee wouldn’t immediately obey him, stiff from kneeling too long. Cursing quietly, he planted a hand on the arm of the sofa and leveraged himself up with a huff, carefully bending and flexing it until the stiffness eased and he could use his leg again.

“Dinner. Right.” He agreed...and because he was feeling contrary, zipped his fly back up with a smirk before he set to finish fixing them both a plate.

First food. Then she could have her floor show back.

From:

fondofapples

"Next time I ask you to kneel," Regina said pointedly, because there would definitely be a next time, and a next, and a next--unless he didn't want there to be, which she didn't think was going to be an issue. "There will be a cushion. And if it's too long for comfort, you will tell me." No room for argument, no threat. He knew she could enforce her will for good or ill, so there was no need.

Likewise, she didn't pout or protest when he zipped his jeans. They'd crossed a line, he felt exposed or contrary or whatever he felt, and they both needed to be comfortable and to trust that the other would press pause or stop if things went too far. She did, however, watch him and then glance up to meet his eyes to acknowledge he'd done it.

"Have I mentioned that you're surreally gorgeous?"

From:

hellorhighwater

"...deal." he agreed, after a pause to protest, then promptly think better of it. Ember's Balls, he was going to get turned on every time she told him what to do from now on.

Well, more turned on than usual.

He was keenly aware of her eyes on him as he finished getting them both food, glancing up as he brought two plates over to the couch to catch her looking. The compliment turned his cheeks a little pink, but he smiled as he sat down beside her, passing her a plate of food, along with cutlery and a napkin before settling his own plate on his lap.

"Once or twice." he quipped, unsure as ever how to handle it when she just--said stuff like that. It made him feel hot and shaky inside, in a really nice way, he just had no idea what to do with it. Pretty words he'd heard before, from women he paid--he was known, feared, admired for his skill and his cruelty, for his fire and his fury.

Knowing that someone saw him as something beautiful, just to look at...it was good in a way he couldn't explain.

"Then you stand me next to an angel like you? And I'm definitely chopped liver." he went on. "Not talkin' myself down, that's just facts."

From:

fondofapples

At the return compliment, Regina blinked once, the lazy flutter of her lashes over her eyes too slow to be anything but deliberate. She smiled, too, in pleasure at being appreciated, even if he wasn't looking right now, just reciting what he saw as facts. On some level, that was even more flattering, that he didn't have to be looking to know he felt that way.

Then again, she did like when he looked at her and was overcome, too. It might make her a terrible feminist (not that anyone had ever actually thought of her as a feminist other than the mere fact of her holding masculine-style authority), but she liked to be beautiful for her mate. And she enjoyed dressing for his attention. Something she looked forward to doing more of in time to come.

"Witches like chopped organ meats," she replied mildly, rolling her tongue behind her teeth as she balanced her plate. "Now, where were we? Something you want, yes? Since we're eating, things you like--in bed, out of bed, about me, anything that's about us is fair game."

From:

hellorhighwater

When she brought up the question then, Neil took a moment to take a bite of his sandwich, thinking it over as he chewed and swallowed, tongue snaking out to lick a glob of dressing off the pad of his thumb.

"Well," he began, nodding his head towards the floor at her feet, where he'd been kneeling before, "that's apparently a thing. A big one--but I think tonight we need somethin' a little lighter." He paused, sucking silently on his teeth for a moment as he stared at his plate, picking at a stray piece of sauerkraut and popping it into his mouth before he smirked teasingly.

"I dunno if you noticed, but my hair's kind of a thing." he joked--since she'd put him to sleep more than a couple times by messing with it in bed, and always somehow ended up with her hands in his hair or braiding it for him when he was tense or angry. "But I've kinda figured out that when you pull it...'specially when you're leaving marks..."

He trailed off, his mind wandering for a minute to the last time she'd grabbed a handful, yanked his head back, set her teeth against his neck or jaw or trapezius...

Swallowing thickly, he nodded with a deep, steadying breath and heat in his eyes.

"Love it when you leave marks, too. I just plain love it when you're possessive and shit. Makes me feel...I dunno. It's hard to describe, but it's good."

From:

fondofapples

"Me being possessive isn't a stretch."

And why was that? She hadn't been with Daniel, but there'd been no need. Nor with Mal, but that would have been suicidal. If Mal had thought Regina was trying to tie her down in anyway, she'd have turned into a dragon and eaten her.

She laughed quietly when she glanced down at the plateful of pancakes and ice cream. At least they'd work the calories off. No doubt about that. So she dug in, and floated the carafe of water over to pour more into her glass while she returned her attention to Neil's desires.

"I never have been." She certainly wouldn't have marked Graham. It supposed he might ever have gotten far enough from her for the marks to matter, if it had even occurred to her.

"Not even with Robin." A small frown flickered over her mouth as she glanced aside to him, and she felt a thick twist of grief in her belly. She almost pushed her food away, but chose a cooling, soothing sip of water instead and said, "Maybe that's why," as calmly as she could.

"It's my way of putting the universe on notice that it can't take you away." And maybe it was why she'd needed him to fuck her so hard she could barely stand; as long as she felt him on her and saw herself on him, they belonged to each other and nothing could take him away.

Her eyes burned bright and definitely possessive when she fixed her gaze on him again. "Sorry, didn't mean to downshift on you. I just..." She shrugged tightly. Understanding why she felt the things she did was an important part of not lashing out at other people because of them.

From:

hellorhighwater

"You didn't. It's okay." he assured her, shifting to sit facing her and drawing one leg up on the couch, tucked so his knee could be pressing against her leg. One day, he would fully explain to her the nature of twice mated dragons--it wasn't common, but it was done, and normal enough that it wasn't troubling. One day--one day he'd make her understand.

For now, he tried to lighten the mood by reaching up to touch one of bites, still lingering on his shoulder as he smiled.

"I wish I could say I had a noble reason like that--I just like knowin' you'll feel 'em later and think about every filthy thing I did to you." he replied with a lascivious wag of his eyebrows before taking another healthy bite of his sandwich.

From:

fondofapples

"Mm," she replied, the sound very slightly suggestive, as she recovered her grace and good humor.

It didn't seem especially noble to cover him in bite- and claw-marks to make sure the universe and any man or woman who happened to see him unclothed knew beyond a doubt he belonged to someone, but she supposed there might be something noble about claiming him from the universe the way she'd said.

"But, love--" Her eyes gleamed now with renewed mischief and unstinting affection, and she reached across to touch just the inside of his knee and then the wrist that rested atop it. "We were discussing how much you like bearing the marks of my claim on you."

From:

hellorhighwater

He'd have made a smart remark--but she was touching his wrist again, and his heart skipped a beat while his throat closed for a moment and his mouth went bone dry, wanting to feel her fingers close around it again.

"...yep." he finally admitted after two unsuccessful attempts at clearing his throat so he could speak. "I sure as hell do--and also that. I have no idea why, it's brand fucking knew, but...that. Apparently."

From:

fondofapples

"This?" Her eyebrow swept upward over a tiny little smirk, as she closed her fingers around his wrist. Because it helped distract her from the other train of thought, she caressed the delicate skin beneath her thumb, too. "Me holding your wrist?"

With her other hand, she took an indelicately large bite of her pancakes and plenty of whipped cream, that she then--naturally--had to clear from her mouth with the sweep of her tongue.

"You know, you could easily pull out of my grip." Very easily. Her expression turned even more wicked then. "But you don't want to. Do you?"

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil's breath rushed out of his lungs in a ragged sigh as her hand curled around his wrist, and he had to set his sandwich back down so he didn't drop it when everything in him went hot and liquid. Swallowing thickly, he couldn't stop his eyes from sliding shut for a moment, letting the warmth of her fingers sink into his skin.

When she spoke, he made himself open his eyes again--and it didn't help, because that fucking look on her face combined with those slim fingers locked around his wrist threatened to start shutting his brain off again, one glorious switch at a time.

"No." he croaked with a tiny shake of his head. "No, I don't."

From:

fondofapples

"Damn." Regina wasn't one for swearing, usually, but sometimes no other words would do. Like the damn for the way her fingers around her wrist dropped him straight into his lizard-brain, not to mention made him look a lot more edible than her pancakes.

After lifting her food off her lap, she shifted onto her knees and leaned in until she could feel each heated, taut breath brush over her mouth like it was her own. No, not like. His breath was hers. Every single breath, every single beat of his heart, every thought, all of him, hers.

Who was she kidding with this dinner first story she was trying to tell?

"Bed, Neil. Now." Or floor, or couch if he could move his food fast enough, she didn't care. "I'm suddenly feeling... possessive."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil's hand was shaking as he managed to set his plate aside, the world narrowing again to Regina's breath puffing against his face, the sound of her voice--that single word making him want with her fingers still wrapped around his wrist, to be possessed, to be claimed, to be owned, more than she already did...

She was so close all he had to do was lean forward and tip his head, and his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry and desperate as his free hand tangled in her hair to keep her close. It felt like he could breathe again while he was kissing her, there wasn't enough air if he couldn't...

Pressing her back onto the couch, Neil covered her body with his with a low moan, hips already rocking against her as he settled his body between her legs.

From:

fondofapples

She let him have her, let him ride out the first wave of that huge swell of wanting, pushing her back and rutting against her with that same animal heat that took them both in the shower. But she never let go of his wrist, and the hand that found his hair yanked hard with a well-timed push of her foot and a bit of magic to roll him over and another bit of magic to cushion their drop to the floor.

Then she straddled him, fierce and triumphant, like a she-dragon surveying her prize. Her hips did roll against his, but only once, hard and demanding before she held herself off him again. If he imagined for a heartbeat it was easy for her, he had only to look at the full-black lust in her eyes or the tips of her breasts beaded clearly visible through her blouse. That, if he couldn't feel the ravenous heat between her thighs.

Voice thick and velvety, she murmured his name and flipped the wrist she held down to the floor by his head. Then she tilted her head until it hit the limit of movement from his hand in it and glanced pointedly to the other side of his head--where she very clearly wanted him to put his hand. They might need something a little 'lighter' than him kneeling for her, but she wanted to 'welcome him home' properly, and apparently properly had teeth.

From:

hellorhighwater

Whatever rational thought he'd been capable of vanished the moment her hand slid into his hair, and reason only flew further away when she pushed him to the floor and straddled him with a roll of her hips that had him growling at the way she looked the way she felt--he thought he'd known hunger before, but in that moment he felt like he would die if he didn't...

Neil.

She said his name and pushed his wrist down--and impossibly, everything else in his head shut completely down as the air left his lungs again.

He couldn't have made himself look away from her eyes if his life depended on it, his own going wide and pitch black with raw need, tongue snaking out to lick lips gone dry as every breath came heavy into his lungs. It felt less intense, but still a lot like kneeling again, no thought needed for his fingers to loosen in her hair, his arm to drop, leaving his hands resting at either side of his head.

And he knew he wasn't going to move them for anything--not as long as there was a chance she'd say his name like that again and keep looking at him like her gaze had the strength her hands didn't to physically pin him to the spot.

From:

fondofapples

"Good boy," she murmured at him thickly, body starving suddenly to have him a dozen different ways and heart thudding powerfully against her ribs, so powerfully she thought it might explode or suddenly stop.

A quick flicker of magic stripped him bare, while her gaze stayed locked to his and then she bent close so he could feel her breath over his mouth again. "Don't move. If you move, I'll stop and go eat dinner."

Somehow she knew she would, too, even if the ache in her cunt would make her miserable while she did it. She was serious about him being still and being hers, and she punctuated the point by moving off him. She didn't go anywhere, just to his side, but sat there, not touching him, except the very tips of her fingers which stroked delicately over the stretch of skin between his hipbone and his abdomen where she would shortly suck a deep purple bruise.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil's eyes slid shut for a moment at those two words, momentarily caught in a strange place between painful arousal and something almost serene that had his breath rushing out of his lungs again in a rough, shaky sigh. The sudden touch of air against previously clothed skin had his eyes snapping open again--and she was right there, filling his vision, her breath filling his lungs.

He nodded slowly, again without thinking--not because it was easy to stop, but because he couldn't. He couldn't think around how badly he wanted her to keep going, how badly he wanted her to touch him...how badly he wanted to keep his hands where they were and not move because she didn't want him to.

Feeling the weight of her body, the heat of her pressed against him suddenly gone had his body tensing, hands clenching into fists, fighting the urge to reach for her--and fighting harder to keep still when her fingertips teased over that one tiny patch of stomach, nowhere near where he really wanted her hand...or her mouth, or the wet heat of her cunt wrapped around his aching cock...

His eyes slid shut again, stomach fluttering under the touch of her hand, his own still curled into fists, everything narrowing to those two words running through his head like a mantra, that too soft touch setting every nerve on fire, don't move don't move don't move--

With his eyes shut, the touch of her lips on his skin caught him off guard, body jerking reflexively again but remaining otherwise still. It was a twisted sort of relief to have that contact, soft wet heat of lips and tongue before the press of teeth and the pressure of her sucking a mark onto his skin. Everything in him went hot and liquid again, a familiar feeling of yielding that came whenever she branded herself onto his body.

Somewhere in the room, a low, breathless moan was hitching, humming through the air. It took Neil a moment to realize that he was the one making that sweet, desperate sound.

From:

fondofapples

In the short time they'd been together, she'd already become used to having his touch. Whether they were being intimate or walking in public, talking or eating, always his hands were on her body or his lips, or she was in his embrace.

This, touching him without being touched, felt so strange as to almost feel illicit. The strangeness of it, of flicking her tongue against the fevered bruise her mouth had left without his hands in her hair, gave it power. Recognizing it, she turned her head, dragged the length of her hair against his hip, a deliberate temptation, a playful petty torment. Then she lifted her head, shifted her body and drew the curtain of her hair along his rampant shaft--once, and then again, touching him without her hands, but still touching him, when he couldn't touch her.

Her mind besieged her with myriad possibilities for this play, but she had no interest in toying with him, not tonight, when she could still hear him murmuring 'welcome home' between his breathless moans. So she spent a few more minutes at this, set her lips to the inside of his thigh, just above his knee, and sucked at that nerve bundle until his moans sounded more like cries of need.

Then she couldn't stand it any longer, the way his sounds seemed to drum against her skin and echo in her cunt, and she sat up abruptly, tugged her panties aside, and held herself poised over him. "Don't touch," she commanded, voice rough with wanting him, and then sank down the length of his cock.

From:

hellorhighwater

Where the press of her mouth was a relief, a hot and solid point of contact that eased a little of that burning need to touch, rooted him in the moment with that familiar lightning pleasure of being marked, the butterfly kiss of her hair brushing over his skin was pure torture. Air hissed between his teeth as he sucked in a breath, hips canting up just a little in reflex, seeking more contact that would never come.

It was worse when that feather light caress slid over his cock, when every nerve felt raw from that touch that wasn't, when every inch of skin burned with a fever that had nothing to do with the fire in his veins and everything to do with the heavy weight of her presence beside him and over him. Neil had never been more aware of her, of her nearness and the anticipation of feeling her touch him--of the weight of her desire all but pinning his hands, arms trembling beneath the effort it took to keep them still, of the hungry looks he spied when he could see her face with a lift of his head.

He could barely keep still by the time her lips touched skin again, no longer in control of the moans and growls that rolled out of him in a nearly constant stream of sound. When he felt that pressure again, that wet heat of her mouth sucking, drawing at skin and nerves, it was just that: a hoarse sound of raw need rasping out of him, one he didn't have sense enough to shape into the please that wanted to escape him in that moment.

Then she was there, straddling him and rising up over his cock...he nodded immediately, would have done more than simply keep his hands to himself, would have done anything she asked of him in that moment just to feel her...

Neil's shoulders arched off the ground along with his neck as he threw his head back, tortured and relieved by the feel of her body engulfing him, inch by sweet inch. He became nothing but the feel of her as she sank onto him, that heightened awareness of her body, her presence, her touch magnifying everything until having her wrapped around him felt like having her everywhere, inside and out, taking him over until there was nothing left of him but feeling.

By the time she took him completely, he was trembling, hands still balled into fists on either side of his head, his eyes riveted to the sight of her over him.

In that instant, she owned him. He felt it, in his marrow, that complete and overpowering claim--and in that relief of her weight on his hips, of being inside her, he could almost think clearly enough to wonder if this was how she felt when he took her over in the shower...and understood exactly why she loved it so much.

From:

fondofapples

Skirt hitched around her waist, panties nagging at tender skin, body still encased in far too much fabric, Regina still felt more sexual power radiating off them than she could remember ever experiencing. Not even when she'd been at her dungeon queen worst had she felt this... full. And it wasn't her power, nothing she used or took, but everything he gave her.

His complete and willing submission to her slightest desire--it rushed to her head, ran along her arms and her spine, careened down her legs, and even though nothing of him touched her but his cock and his hips between her thighs, sensation ran rampant, electrified her with every slight shift of her weight over him. He might as well have been touching her everywhere for how she felt him.

Which made it hard to take this slow, to savor the fullness, emotional and physical of riding him--for her own pleasure, yes, but somehow even though he gave himself up to her and she took everything he gave, it was for him. Every time she tightened around him, every time she rocked her hips to take him that much deeper, every time she paused, hands on his chest to tip her head back and just enjoy--it was about him, too, about giving him the freedom to just be and feel and not need to do a damned thing but be hers.

Which was why she forced herself to wait, to hang onto her orgasm for as long as she could, because those moments, the ones in the shower when he'd finally given himself over to his own pleasure but he wasn't there yet, they were the ones where she felt completely free--and if she could give that to him, she desperately wanted to.

From:

hellorhighwater

There was barely a moment of tension when she sank onto him fully, when she didn't move and all he could do was feel her, all he could do was want--but then she was moving, and as he watched her, felt her, was conquered by her, it was the most perfect release he'd ever known. Not physical, but in every other way that mattered as she set the pace she wanted, took him as deep as she needed, paused now and again with her head thrown back just to feel him filling her--the easy weight of her hands on his chest, supporting herself as she rode him.

There was such absolute certainty in that careless way she touched him, soul-deep satisfaction in becoming no more than a means to her pleasure, perfect freedom in those moments when she was so lost in passion she seemed to forget everything that wasn't his cock inside her.

Because there was such perfect awareness in the confident way she used him for herself--for all her fears about abusing any control he gave her, any true and meaningful ownership she might have of his actions or his desires, he felt like the center of her world while she satisfied herself with his body. He could just watch her move over him, feel her cunt tighten around his cock, hear her breathe and vocalize her pleasure--he could give himself over to her completely, just fucking belong to her and let her have all of him without being afraid of it.

And when he saw it in the lines of her body, felt it in the eager way she rode him, had it burned into him with the sure, confident, knowing way her hands slid over his skin--that he was nothing and no one save for being hers, he found all the freedom he ever needed in being able to give her everything.

"Regina...please...please..."

He wanted, needed more--needed her to not hold back, needed to be the reason she came, needed to see her come undone over him--needed things he couldn't even give voice or thought. He simply needed, became need, fighting to keep his eyes open so he could watch her instead of sinking into the way she fucked herself on him and losing the moment to his own release.

From:

fondofapples

At the beautiful need in his voice, at seeing him laid bare with it, Regina slowed her pace and smiled down at him--assuring him, she saw him, she felt him, she knew him, and he was hers. She balanced on one hand to kiss her fingertips and then press them to his lips, and after slid her hand over to cup his check.

It didn't matter, then, that her balance was off, that the altered position meant building her orgasm back up--she wanted it like this, her hand on his face, channeling her love while she rode his ever-stiffer cock.

They were different, he and she. She found her freedom in being nothing at all but a body, any body, and his role in that was to be the only person she could trust to put her in that place. He found his freedom in being hers, however she wanted him.

Images of him bound or otherwise waiting on her pleasure spilled through her mind. Brief overlap with memories of Graham made her stutter in her ride, but she only needed the feel of his beard against her palm to steady her again.

"Neil..." She moaned, pitch of her voice rising as her hips rocked and rotated her around his shaft, her slick spilling over him, painting him hers. "Good... so good.... fuck." Abruptly, she tensed from her abdomen to her toes, and then splashed into orgasm like wine over the rim of a crystal glass--messy, tart, and unrestrained.

"Oh. gods. Yes!"

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil moaned softly as she kissed her fingers and pressed them to his lips, another release in that loving, possessive touch that was very nearly physical--not an orgasm, but something breaking, yielding, cutting a tether he hadn't realized left him bound or restrained. Kissing her fingertips as they fell against his mouth, lips parting to catch the pad of one with a barely there dart of his tongue to taste skin, he nuzzled into the palm of her hand as she cradled his cheek and finally started to let himself fall.

Twisting his head up to watch her as she rode him, he followed her as she started to chase her own release in earnest, heat spilling through him as she rocked and rolled her hips, found that right angle and speed to get herself off.

It was so good she could barely form a coherent thought, and for Neil it was perfect. He nearly came just to hear those words fall from her lips, good, so good, but he fought to hold on, to hold himself still...wanted this, needed this for himself, to be for her...

It was sudden and wild and beautiful as she tensed and fucking shattered over him, around him, piercing the air with her sharp, abrupt cry of pleasure. She was fucking hypnotic as she came undone, her pleasure so perfect, so wanton that he nearly lost himself in it, in holding himself in check to please her, damn near forgot how badly he wanted, needed to come.

From:

fondofapples

Her pleasure washed over her in waves, flowing outward to the tips of her fingers, which curled involuntarily into his cheek and chest, leaving crescent imprints behind. Only a sudden quickened consciousness of Neil, triggered by the scent of his sweat and the springy hair of his beard beneath her hand, spared his face the same welted streaks that his chest came to bear. And even so, she knew, if she hadn't stopped herself, he'd have worn those scratches as a badge of honor, as proof that he'd served her well.

Which was almost certainly why she didn't allow herself to mark his face. He wouldn't look out for himself when she used him like this, so she had to.

Not that, in this moment, she was thinking about either leaving stripes or not doing it. She'd flowed well past any possibility of higher thought as soon as she'd realized how much he was getting off on belonging to her like this. And now rode, nursing the end of her orgasm and feeling the promise of another, in the 'just right' sensation in her cunt and the tingle of her clit.

On instinct, she lifted herself off his cock as the spasms ended and rasped, "Just your mouth," as she crawled toward his head. "Don't come." Then she straddled his face (careful not to smother him entirely), nipples pulling tighter and labia slicking with fresh desire while she anticipated the first swipes of his tongue.

From:

hellorhighwater

When her nails scored his chest, there was a moment he nearly fell over the edge, when that tidal wave of liquid heat pouring from the rake of her nails into his blood nearly bowled him over—but he was bound by the sight of her over him, the clench of her cunt around his cock as she coaxed every drop of pleasure from her release, the hand still curled against his cheek. It drew him away from orgasm without dimming his arousal, seduced him back into the moment...

A desperate sound tore out of him as she pulled herself off of him, but when she ordered him to use his mouth, not to come, he moaned with fresh pleasure as he eagerly swept his tongue along her slit, greedy for the taste of her. He lifted his head as much as he could, eagerly pressing closer to her sex so he could push his tongue inside—he didn’t care if she rode his face too hard, wanted to fucking drown in the heat and scent of her arousal bathing his face when she came again.

And holding back his own release as he pleasured her with lips closing around her clit, fucking his tongue into her...it was the purest form of surrender he’d ever known as he gave her control of when and how he would come. He was a raw, aching, open nerve unable to do anything but feel and feel and feel because she wanted him to—because everything he was and would he belonged to her alone.

He belonged to her, and more importantly she owned him in return. She commanded him, she used him, she cared for him when he was too far gone to...she owned him so totally she couldn’t be afraid of losing him or hurting him. Nothing was an abuse of power or trust, because he was nothing more than hers, and everything was allowed.

And as he held himself in check and used lips and tongue to get her off a second time, the notion of giving her that freedom from fear and loss and the strain of controlling her love of power—it was the greatest threat to his self control with the perfect pleasure it brought him.