Warmth flooded through Sigyn, spreading down through her torso, then out through her limbs until she almost felt as though the sunshine was beaming out of her fingers and toes. And it all started at her mouth, at her lips, that were touching his. Sigyn was used to heat, kissing Loki who was a fire giant always provided a goodly amount. But it was not like this. This was different. This was richer, fuller somehow.
Maybe because it was wrong.
As soon as that thought crossed her mind, quiet and small as the thought was against all of the warmth flowing through her, Sigyn gasped. And with that, the kiss was broken. Then another sort of heat flooded, but only to her cheeks, as she blushed with embarrassment. What must the Allfather think of her? She was betrothed to his blood-brother. What kind of woman accepted one man's offer of marriage, then turned around and kissed another? And one that was almost family!
“I'm sorry,” she murmured, utterly mortified. “I should not have done that. I don't know what I... I... I'm so sorry.”
She should get up. She should leave. She should, at the very least, lean away from him. But she was held in place by her embarrassment. At least, that's what she told herself. The truth was probably something far more complex, but she was unwilling to delve into it in the moment. Whatever the reason, Sigyn stayed where she was, within the circle of his arms, even as she knew her cheeks were turning bright red.