Cinnamon Toast Ken Novels & Stories

Jong gently pulled away saying. “I'm sorry......I didn't quite hear what you wanted for breakfast.” Kita's mouth forms the most beautiful smile looking at him so contented. With each day and month that passes, Kenneth finds his wife creating new sensations in him, as he created in her. Speaking softly Kita went on to tell him her desire. “Pancakes dripping with syrup from strawberries, and lots of whip cream. With an order of hot Kim, Kenneth on top.” “Whew! Something about that breakfast is terribly enticing......Okay. You just lay here and rest, and I'll be back with your order shortly ma'am.”

"Joyless and deeply unbothered by flavor." Niko pressed his fist to his mouth. "You have no permission," Kai said, "to be in my kitchen at eight in the morning making things that—" He stopped. "That what," I said. A pause. "That requires this much involvement," he said. "It's French toast." "It's a production." "It's FRENCH TOAST, Kai," Niko said. "With cardamom. Sit down and eat something that has actual flavor for once in your—" "Niko."

Selena looked disgusted when she noticed Ken. However, she still smiled at him as she said, “What are you doing here, Young Master Ken? You wouldn’t be asking for a collaboration with our company now, would you? If I recall correctly, your company doesn’t have any relation to construction at all!” Ken laughed. He handed her the flower while saying, “Fane is nothing more than a mere soldier, a mindless brute who is absolutely unworthy of you. He must be illiterate. Why would he be a take-out delivery boy back then, if he wasn’t? It’s too embarrassing for you to stay with him!”

Kingston, find out who tore my daughter's clothes, who took the photos, and who laid even a single hand on her. "Once you identify them, detain them." Then, she pointed right at Vanessa, enunciating each word with icy precision. "That goes especially to you, Caldwell. Didn't you enjoy hitting her just now? Now… It's my turn. Slap her!"

"See? This isn't good, Ken." Kenzo examined a collection of photos of beautifully decorated blue-themed cakes. Although they looked a bit messy on the right side, Kenzo could already imagine how delicious each piece of Jess's homemade cake must be. Especially since the snacks she made were never overly sweet but always delightful to the taste buds of her customers. Including Kenzo.

Roy patiently waited for Ken to convince the server to add one extra serving to the spare plate he was holding on. The server gave Ken weird looks and after a lot of coercing, added extra serves of the dishes Ken asked. Roy looked at his own plate which had a single serve of butter toast, fried sausages, one egg—scrambled, roasted vegetables and a can of fresh apple juice. The usual. "She should be glad that I take such measures to help feed her that blackhole of a stomach!" Ken huffed, balancing his and Monroe's plate in his hands. Ken was now standing in front of Roy with a displeased expression.

He was just adjusting the temperature of the oven when Ken came out of the bathroom, in an oversized T-shirt that pulled his shorts up to mid-thigh. Max gulped, looking at Ken's white and smooth thighs. So tempting. So adorable. Max gulped. He quickly looked away and tried to focus back on the oven. "I-I'm going to take a shower first," said Max after a few moments of fiddling with the oven. He walked past Ken and smelled a soft vanilla scent, under the scent of his body wash. "Max I bought corn for pop corn, can I make it? We can eat it while watching n*****x tonight. I want to watch Dahmer" Ken said walking to the kitchen.

“I could but what fun would that be in telling you. It’s better to show you.” “You seem to be doing a bit better now. I guess eye candy is the remedy to soothe a wounded heart.” “It certainly helps.” Kenji polished off the last bite of his bourguignon. His waiter came to check on him, “Will there be anything else for you Monsieur?” “Yes, I will have an apple and cinnamon crème caramel cake if you have it.” “Right away.” The waiter turned to go back to the kitchens. A few minutes later a beautiful golden-brown desert was placed in front of him. It was the perfect size for one person to enjoy alone.

They spent a little more time chatting with the Moore’s and then Frida and Keira said their goodbyes to the old couple. When they were in the car, Keira smelled a faint scent of cinnamon. “Do you have anything that has cinnamon with you?” Keira asked Frida, who seemed confused. Mrs. Moore handed them a basket of bread and pastries. Perhaps it was one of those things. “Have you checked the goody basket Mrs. Moore gave us?” Frida asked Keira, who instantly checked the basket. Their suspicion is true. There was cinnamon bread in there. Keira instantly turned blue when the potent scent of cinnamon was right before her nose. Frida stopped her car and assisted Keira out of the car.

Most people just thought I was a bit of a bitch. My teeth were still gritting as I made breakfast. Just one serving all for me. Just to drive the point home to Aden, that he couldn’t jerk me around and get away with it. If he wanted any more of my practically perfect in every way cinnamon French toast, he would just have to lump it.