A big man's voice flowed out of the cupid's mouth.
Rome's voice flowed like warm honey from directly behind me.
Her voice flowed over him like honey, a touch of accent drawing out the "you."
She turned back to him, and her voice flowed musically.
His voice flowed low, musical, and a little sad.
His voice had flowed on without pause or falter during the brief moment of action.
A voice that only he could hear flowed through his inner consciousness.
His voice flowed over her like a golden river.
"Sorry I couldn't be with you," he murmured, his cool and liquid voice flowing around me.
His voice flowed over her, as warm as cocoa on a cold night.
