Poppy Gold Cakes Nude Novels & Stories

"I've worked on it for the whole day. Please cut the cake for me. You don't have to celebrate. I will celebrate for you." She stopped in front of the table. There was a grin that appeared on her lips. “I was wondering if you liked the cake. I spent two hours in the shop waiting for this cake.” Bryan's eyes slowly moved to the cake. It was a cake made with dark chocolate. But the eye-catching side of the cake was the golden crown on top. It was glimmering, demonstrating its glory. "A crown?" he asked. She smiled while looking at the cake. "Yeah."

"8:35pm, but my mind isn't working." He walks toward Gold, a soft blush is staining his cheeks. "The truth is, I'm just here to bring you guys some dinner." Noah is trying to make different dishes these days. All the ingredients he uses are from their farm. "Oh, thank fuck. I'm really hungry..." Gold snatches the paper bag from Kolya. He plops down on the floor again while inhaling the food. "It's sweet potato black bean burger." "I'm eating all of this. Fuck Cleo." Gold takes a bite on his vegan burger.

She had to be there early, so I could go backstage with her and brought my dessert sample along. I made the cutest tiny cakes ever. They were bite-sized cubic and sphere-shaped delights. Each one was designed with a detailed chocolate coating, vanilla, and butter-icing sprinkled with edible gold glitters. I imagined light shining from inside the box when I opened the lid. The luckiest sweet-tooths would feel like a pirate discovering the hidden treasure. "Wow Azra, they look so kawaii!" Clarice cried when she took a peek inside the box. "They're pure artwork! I don't know whether to eat them or display them."

I took the blowtorch, flicked it on, and kissed the top of each cake with fire. Cracks that had formed earlier bloomed into a marbled, starry pattern under the flame, making it look intentional—like a piece of art. I set the final tray aside. “Done.” Nora’s jaw had gone slack. “It’s… better than the original.” I nodded. “Good. Box it up carefully. Add edible gold leaf to the garnish.” Nora just stood there for a moment, wide-eyed. Then she nodded quickly and rushed to deliver them.

I used to bake cake, and get them little gifts, but there have been nothing particularly special about the day. “I made them four different colours, Tilda. Four lovely cake,” Miranda announced. “Four cakes! That’s too much, Miranda,” I exclaimed. “There are cute little cakes, Tilda. Would be gone before you know it,” she replied. “You should see the cakes, mom. Gold for me, blue for Denzel, Yellow for Dixon, and pink for Diamond. There are so lovely.” Dylan replied. “One cake with four colors would do,” I said. Dylan replied. “Our distinguished guest will be here, soon, mom. We made a lot of dishes too. The cakes will not be too much.”

Tabitha leans over a counter, gloved hands steady. She holds a frosted glass vial. Etched on the front in delicate silver script: Silversleep. She taps a pinch into the cream meant for the mashed potatoes. Blends it in like it’s sugar. Then adds another dose to the cake batter. Smooths it in slowly, humming. Like it’s just another recipe. She wipes her hands. Removes the gloves. Then begins decorating the cake— Simple. Beautiful. Innocent. But it’s not. It’s a weapon.

"Mom, I want that one." The sweet plea of my son's voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I looked down to see my three-year-old pointing eagerly at a cake behind the glass counter, his big eyes filled with hope. The saleswoman smilingly chimed in, "This is our latest creation, a peanut-flavored cake with a whopping fifty percent peanut content. And it comes with our very own handmade Chocolate-Covered Peanuts! This is the last piece we have for today."

Their house in Oslob was recently renovated and all the moldings were painted with gold, some of the furniture was replaced with designs that incorporated gold in it. “You really have pink cups,” she said and stared at the dainty cups in pastel pink.

Chapter 104: Sunlight and Sugar The smell of something warm and buttery filled the room. Then the sound of soft clinking, of ceramic against a tray, and a low hum that was unmistakably Valerio’s voice. I blinked at the tray “oouu already ready?” golden pancakes stacked high, a drizzle of honey forming messy trails; scrambled eggs, slightly overcooked on one side; and a single flower… a daisy resting beside the coffee cup. “Awww cute” I said, smiling hard.