Finding Home, by Jude Mason

Finding Home

By Jude Mason
Publisher: Phaze
ISBN: 978-1-60659-529-9

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Blurb:

Handsome, blond, Jacob Cob was on a hunting trip that takes him beyond anything he could have imagined. While tracking an animal, he steps into what he believes is a cave only to wake up a thousand years in the past. Taken in by a native band, a young warrior offers him shelter and friendship. Jacob begins to learn the ways of the band, and soon finds himself falling for Tsaskwana, or Bird Song, a lovely native woman.

Still he searches for a way home. Every spare moment he has, he wanders the forest, trying to find that cave, to no avail.

Will his white man ways ruin his chance at happiness? Will Bird Song win his heart? Will he accept this new home and these people as his?

Content: Time travel, voyeurism, m/f sex

Excerpt:

"Good. Let us go inside then." Howling Wolf released his shoulder and entered the lodge.

Jacob followed. The interior was dim, but a fire roared in the center of the large room. His pallet lay on the far side, Wolf's and his lady's on the near side. It took only a few moments for his eyes to become accustomed, and that's when he saw both women were waiting for them.

Each woman knelt on a pallet: Bird Song on his, Little Dove on Wolf's. Over the fire between them, a large pot steamed, and the smell of fish soup permeated the air.

"You are hungry?" asked Little Dove, her face turned toward Wolf.

"Yes, I'm hungry. I'm starving," he replied and sank to his knees on the hide covered floor. Crawling toward her, he growled, like the wolf he'd been named after.

Jacob watched for only a moment as the big man neared his lover, his growls turning to moans of lust the closer he got. When he reached his hand out and touched her leg, she yelped as if burned, and threw her arms around his neck.

Tearing his eyes from the playful pair, he turned his focus on Bird Song, the maiden who'd trapped his heart from the first day he'd entered the village. She had positioned herself in the middle of his bed: her hide leggings removed and her footwear atop them at the bottom. She'd combed out her long raven black hair and cascaded down her back in a luscious waterfall of softness.

He quickly bent and removed his leather boots. Then, straightening, he skinned out of his soft leather jerkin before going toward her. They'd had many clandestine meetings, but until that moment, they'd never actually shared a bed. His excitement warred with his desire to take his time. He'd never been so concerned about pleasing a woman before. Bird Song was different—innocent maybe, but with an old soul, if that made any sense.

He felt her eyes on him, wandering over his chest and belly, traveling lower to where his erection pushed against the supple leather of his breech cloth. Each step forward shifted the head of his cock against it, and finally he shuddered from the extraordinary stimulation. He stopped when he was directly in front of her.

"It would seem we don't have to wait for our own lodge to be built," he murmured sliding his hand along her cheek to her chin, and lifting it. Her eyes found his, and she smiled.

"It would seem you're more than a little pleased at that," she countered, forcing her chin down, but only enough for her to focus on his erection. Her hand followed, sliding along his thigh and upward. She cupped the swell of his balls, gently massaging them, forcing a moan from deep inside him. Deftly, with her free hand, she unfastened the leather thongs holding his breech cloth together.

"Yes, I'm very pleased." He released her chin, only to move his hand to the tie holding her jerkin together. With a quick tug, the leather thong came loose and the front of her garment opened. The gentle slope of her breast drew his eyes and took his breath. He hungered for her. Her hand on him drove him on. His fingers trembled when he pushed them beneath the leather covering her shoulder. Pushing it away, he watched it slide down her arm and moved his hand to the other side. Another push, and a little urging, unveiled her upper body to him. The puckered tips of her breasts pointed at him, their dark points like beacons in the flickering firelight.

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