It did make her feel a bit like a randy teenager, though her teenage years had been rather lacking in those sort of thing as well. With the war and her own fears and anxieties, she hadn't done more than a little bit of snogging until she was nearly twenty, and even then she'd struggled to be comfortable with that sort of intimacy.
But she was comfortable here and now with him--not completely free from nerves, but still comfortable. She gasped again at the way his teeth tugged, her nipple budding tighter in his mouth as her hand flexed in his hair. He liked that--she'd caught on--having his hair played with, though she wasn't consciously doing so.
His shirt coming off did nothing to quell those nerves in her, and she wondered briefly if she intended to have sex with him right there on her couch, but she pushed the thought away. She didn't want to think about it; she just wanted to do, and he seemed willing to follow her lead on that just now, anyway. But she did start to feel a greater sense of urgency, the need to be closer, to feel more of him, to have him touching more of her, and she slipped her hands between them to work open the front of his trousers.