“He flung her down upon the sacks, and there he got her corn ground, her corn ground… .” Roger was chanting hotly in her ear, his full weight pinning her to the ground and the stars spinning madly far above.
She’d thought his description of Ronnie as “reeking wi’ lust” merely a figure of speech, but evidently not. Bare flesh met bare flesh, and then some. She gasped. So did Roger.
“Oh, God,” he said. He paused, frozen for an instant against the sky above her, then sighed in an ecstasy of whisky fumes and began to move with her, humming. It was dark, thank God, though not nearly dark enough. The remnants of the fire cast an eerie glow over his face, and he looked for an instant the bonny big, black devil Inga had called him.
Diana Gabaldon, A Breath of Snow and Ashes (Chapter 6 – Ambush)