The morning sunlight filtered through the grand curtains of the bedroom, casting a soft glow on the luxurious bed where Kent found himself… in yet another predicament.
He was completely trapped.
Colette, his towering dragoness wife, had him pinned beneath her in her sleep. At seven feet tall and a foot and a half taller than him, her sheer size made escape nearly impossible. Her massive wings were draped protectively over his back, cocooning him in warmth. Her thick tail coiled snugly around his waist like a binding rope, further locking him in place. But the true challenge was her chest—those enormous, soft breasts pressed against his face, smothering him completely.
Kent squirmed, trying to reposition himself so he could breathe properly, but every movement seemed to make things worse.
"Mmph… Colette," he mumbled, his voice muffled against her scales and barely audible.
Still deeply asleep, Colette let out a soft sigh, pulling him closer as if her subconscious sensed his struggle. Her arms tightened around him, and her tail gave a firm squeeze, making it abundantly clear that he wasn't going anywhere.
"Colette, wake up," he tried again, his voice tinged with desperation.
He pushed against her shoulders, but her strength—even in sleep—was leagues beyond his. She was far bigger, far heavier, and far stronger. The more he struggled, the deeper his face was pressed into her soft chest.
"Come on," he grunted, trying to wiggle free. His attempts only caused her to let out a sleepy growl, her hold tightening instinctively.
"Mine," she murmured, her voice low and possessive even in her dreams.
Kent's cheeks burned as he resigned himself to his fate. Her protective instincts as a dragon were in full force, and she wouldn't let go until she decided to wake up. He tried to stay still, hoping she might stir on her own, but the lack of air made it difficult.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Colette began to stir. Her wings twitched, and her tail uncoiled slightly. She let out a deep, contented yawn, her sharp blue eyes fluttering open.
"Good morning, darling," she murmured, her voice husky from sleep. She glanced down and blinked, realizing where his face was buried. A mischievous smirk spread across her lips. "Well, this is a nice way to wake up."
"Colette," Kent managed, his voice muffled. "Can't… breathe."
She chuckled softly, loosening her hold but not letting go completely. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. You're fine."
Kent gave her a pointed look as he finally managed to pull his face free, gasping for air. "You were smothering me!"
Colette grinned, leaning down to nuzzle him affectionately. "You're so cute when you struggle, you know that?"
Kent groaned, his face turning red as she planted a kiss on his forehead. "You really need to be more careful, Colette."
"But I can't help it," she teased, wrapping her arms around him again. "You're so warm and cuddly. It's hard to let go."
Despite his exasperation, Kent couldn't help but smile. As overwhelming as she could be, he knew her affection came from a place of deep love and devotion.
"Just… maybe try not to crush me next time," he said, his tone lighthearted.
"No promises," Colette replied with a wink, pulling him back into a gentle hug. "You're mine, Kent. And I'm not letting you go."
He sighed, resigned but secretly happy. Being smothered by Colette might be overwhelming, but he wouldn't trade her love for anything in the world.
Later that day, Colette sat at her massive desk, her claws drumming against its polished surface as she scanned through the mountain of paperwork before her. Her sharp blue eyes were narrowed, her irritation palpable. Today had been one of those days—relentless, exhausting, and filled with more incompetence than she could tolerate.
The government had been breathing down her neck again, their accusations of laundering illegally obtained money through her chain of "legitimate" businesses growing louder. They could make all the noise they wanted, but they knew better than to act on it. Once, years ago, they'd thought a nuclear missile might be enough to deal with her. That particular experiment had failed spectacularly. She hadn't even flinched, walking out of the smoking crater unharmed and more furious than ever. Since then, their efforts had been limited to endless red tape and veiled threats—both of which she ignored.
But if the government was merely a nuisance, her soldiers were a full-blown headache.
She'd approved their venture into high-interest loans, a lucrative if unsavory business, but their execution left much to be desired. They were supposed to be ruthless yet efficient, using their power to ensure repayment without drawing undue attention. Instead, they were sloppy. Bumbling raids, unnecessary violence, and unpaid debts piling up—it was an embarrassment to her organization.
With each passing moment, her irritation grew. She clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to destroy the ornate desk in front of her. Her wings twitched, and her tail thumped against the floor, the sound echoing through the room.
Before she could reach her breaking point, the door to her office opened.
Her icy glare snapped toward the intruder, her claws flexing in anticipation of tearing into whoever dared interrupt her uninvited. But then she saw him, and all the tension melted away in an instant.
There he was—Kent, her husband, holding a tray with two steaming mugs of tea and that same warm, innocent smile on his face. His mere presence was like a balm to her frayed nerves, washing away the stress that had been building all day.
"Busy day?" he asked, setting the tray on her desk.
"You could say that," Colette muttered, her voice softening in a way it never did for anyone else. She leaned back in her chair, her wings folding neatly against her back as she reached for one of the mugs. "Everything that could go wrong has gone wrong."
Kent nodded, pulling up a chair beside her. "I figured as much. That's why I thought you could use a break."
Colette raised an eyebrow, sipping her tea. "A break? You know I don't have time for that."
"You do tonight," Kent said confidently. "After work, I'm taking you to the pool. Three hours of relaxation. No work, no soldiers, no paperwork—just us."
Colette blinked, momentarily stunned by the boldness of his suggestion. She was used to being the one giving orders, dictating how things would go. But Kent had a way of cutting through her stubbornness with his simple, genuine care for her well-being.
"Three hours?" she echoed, pretending to sound skeptical, though a small smile was already tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Three hours," Kent repeated, leaning forward slightly. "You deserve it, Colette. Let me help you unwind."
The blush that crept across her blue-and-white scaled cheeks was imperceptible to most, but Kent knew it was there. She sighed, her tail curling slightly around the leg of her chair as she relented.
"Fine," she said with a mock groan, though her tone was far too soft to be convincing. "But only after I finish this mountain of work."