Hellhound Wife

>All your life you've been unfortunate enough to be the target of persisting bad dreams
>Only when your hellhound wife is wrapped around you can you get a peaceful night's sleep
>Little do you know, her hellish aura actually extends into the spirit world, utterly terrifying any malicious spirits that have been the cause of your nightmares for so long
>When the hellhound works this out, she waits until you're out one day and warps into the spirit world in a circle of fire, and personally threatens the responsible spirits with obliteration via hellfire if they don't leave you alone
>The lead spirit tells her to depart in a none-too-kind manner
>So she simply burns away a good portion of the thing's soul
>After that, your dreams were almost always filled with your wife, and the peppery scent of her fur as the one feature you can always remember from them

>Once your hellhound wife has warped away, those spirits, beaten and terrified, one of them missing half of its being, slink away
>They inform their ruler, a higher being of an evil spirit with considerable power in the world of dreams
>They wait until you and your wife are away from the supernatural protection of your home, and ambush you in an empty park, manifesting as full on spirits intent on taking revenge
>Your wife just tells you to stand back, her obsidian skin glowing red as if fire's replaced the blood in her veins, burning away her clothes as she faces the small army of attackers
>The minute they charge at you, snarling and screaming, she howls, imprinting a pentagram of flame on the ground at her feet and calling upon the full extent of her ability
>The demons barely make it ten metres before your wife goes full Asura'a Wrath, showing you just how good she is at the job her species was literally made to do: Put demons in their place
>She erupts like a volcano aimed horizontal, making an entire park disappear in a cone of unnaturally thick, focused fire that actually sounds like a rocket taking off
>In that single second, maybe a good third of the demon army is vaporised instantly, banished from the living world without a vessel and no doubt blasted away to Hell, in the deepest, most horrifying reaches of the metaphysical worlds
>The moment her onslaught ends, she leaps into the fray, sprinting and bounding on all fours to leap into the midst of the demons and tear them apart tooth, claw and hellflame
>She fights with the fury of a beast, but with the precision of a machine, the strength and magical ability of a god, and agility that makes Grey Fox look like Fatman
>Soon, the entire army is no more, the last few demons bursting into fire and ectoplasm
>Only their ruler remains, a nine feet tall humanoid giant of a thing clad in black armour straight out of a fantasy novel, with red pinpricks of light burning through the eyeholes of its helm
>You wife wastes no time in engaging, dodging swipes of its magical sword and retaliating with punches and kicks that impact the demon's armour like a wrecking-ball, using her hellfire as makeshift boosters to propel her strikes with even more speed and brutality
>After a long battle between what are essentially two lesser gods, your wife knocks the demon ruler off balance, taking the opportunity to pounce on it bodily and knock it to the ground
>The demon is ready, though, and draws a wicked looking knife from some secret place
>They thrust with it, penetrating your wife's gut as a sickly green light flashes from the blade, twisting it in her skin
>You cry out as your wife freezes and looks down in shock at her wound, already leaking what can only be described as liquid fire
>The demon ruler begins to laugh, the sound echoing within their helmet
>At least before it's promptly bitten off by your wife
>Along with their head
>The demon bursts into transparent ectoplasm rather unceremoniously, a few ashes burning in the air as the hellhound spits out some of the quickly evaporating fluid
>The wound in her gut remains, though, and she can only look at it in dumb shock as it leaks out her scalding hot lifeblood onto the charred ground at an alarming rate
>She looks at you with a smile, barely managing to get words out of her mouth
>"Bet I looked really cool out there, right, husband?"
>Then she slumps over, unconscious
>You panic, and do the only thing you can think of: scooping your arms under your wife, picking her up, and carrying all seven feet of her, muscle and all, back to your home
>It's only a five minute walk there, but to you it feels like hours, and in the middle of winter in the evening, you find no one on the streets to help you
>You can only listen to her laboured breathing, fearing for her life every step of the way
>Only your physical presence keeps her alive, allowing her to unconsciously leach spirit energy from you and keep herself clinging to life
>Once home, you set her on the bed, ignoring the scorch marks her blood leaves everywhere, wrap her wound in bandages, and leave to call an ambulance
>You've barely turned around before her paw shoots out and grabs your wrist, pulling you on top of her
>Her eyes are closed, and she barely seems lucid through the pain, but she gasps out anyway, "No, don't go. I just need you."
>Understanding immediately, you strip naked while straddling her, maximising your skin content before moving to lie on top of her completely
>Her breathing eases up just slightly, and when she opens her eyes, you see they aren't anywhere near as grey or extinguished as before, the flames flickering from them nowhere near as small and weak
>You tell her how amazing she looked out there, and once she tells you how all of it started, how stupid she was for antagonising those spirits by burning away half of one's soul
>You also tell her how much you love her

>She kisses you weakly in response, saying she'd take on every spirit, demon, monster, god or Outlier if it meant keeping you safe
>You make up the difference in her kiss, cradling her head in your hands and lovingly grinding yourself against her abs even as you begin to get hard
>As your love for each other boils to the surface, you feel her heat return to her, just enough to make her nipples glow slightly when you look down, and just enough that you can feel a tingling in your mouth when you kiss her again: a full flow of spirit energy shaped by love and emotion, eagerly absorbed by your wife and used to slowly restore her body
>It doesn't take long before you manoeuvre downwards, and slip your erection inside her, the both of you gasping at the heat and sensation of so much soulful energy sinking into her sex as it emanates from your shaft
>The two of you lose your minds together, making love continuously and passionately, if a little gently to avoid any pain from her injury
>Of course, you don't stop until she's fully healed, watching the painful stab wound close significantly every time you cum into her, until with one final, leg-locking, burying-your-face-between-her-breasts orgasm, her flawless charcoal skin closes entirely, shining like obsidian from all her sweat
>Exhausted, but happily tracing your finger around her once again perfect tummy, you collapse on top of her and fall asleep, once again to pleasant and peaceful dreams.