How To Describe A Voice In Writing นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I let my intent and purpose fill my voice, and I project it outward unto him. "Look at me and see that I am unharmed” I wait, but his face remains hard, and he doesn’t do anything. “Look. at. me." My voice comes out commanding, but more surprisingly, he looks back at me, golden orbs clashing with the ordinary brown of mine. I look back at him in silence, simply marvelling at how my voice sounded. I sounded sure, I sounded confident, I sounded like someone in control, and I really liked it.

I whispered, my voice barely audible, "What are you doing to me?" "Convincing you, I guess," he whispered, his warm breath caressing my cheek. The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire, stirring a tumult of emotions within me. My heart raced in my chest, each beat echoing the heightened tension that enveloped us. His voice had a seductive allure, a melody that wrapped around my senses and pulled me under his spell.

Then he picked up the thread again, voice steady, picking right back up where he’d left off. I let my bag slide to the floor with a soft thud. Sank into my desk chair like my legs might not hold me much longer. I told myself it was nothing. Just words. Just background noise to keep the room from feeling too empty. But the truth settled heavy in my gut: I liked the sound of his voice. Too much. I liked the way his mouth shaped each syllable, careful and deliberate. The way his throat worked when he swallowed between sentences. The way his pitch dipped lower when fatigue started to creep in, turning the prose into something intimate, almost confessional.

I thought he would realise his mistake but it was going somewhere else. "Now it's my time," His voice was deep and rich, with a hint of raspiness that sent shivers down my spine every time he spoke. It was the kind of voice that commanded attention, drawing you in and making you want to listen to every word he said, his voice seemed to vibrate through the air, filling the room with its warmth and intensity. It was like the sound was coming from deep within him, resonating in his chest before spilling out into the world.

My voice is alluring and sexy and down to earth, everything I am, yet according to society’s standard - my voice doesn’t fit my look. But I think it does, it just depends on who’s looking. A person can imagine what someone looks like just by voice alone. The voice shapes the face and body just by the tones and pitches heard in the words that are spoken. I could read the dictionary and make it sound like an erotica novel. It’s a blessing and a curse because some shallow people expect to see after hearing my voice - a small, model type sistah with long flowing hair that a gentle breeze can blow her away.

I asked, looking away from him. “I saved you. You got slashed in the back by the rogue.” He said simply. His voice sounded so smooth and captivating, like a melody floating in the air. The voice is deep and velvety, with a hint of huskiness that adds an extra layer of allure. The few words he spoke sent a tingle down my spine, and I couldn't help but be drawn in by the sheer maturity of his voice. It was like magic, casting a spell on me, making my heart skip a beat. “Are you okay?”

The voice goes again and I stand up from my chair. “I’m so grateful.” Freddie’s mom says and I block her out. I want to hear the other voice. I love the sound of it. It’s making me think of images of a very sexy and mysterious woman. I’ve never fallen in love with someone’s voice before but I think I am about to. “Of ‘course.” She says making me want to see her face. I need to see the shape of the lips making this sound. I need to see her eyes and I want to talk to her so I can hear that voce over and over.

Instead of picking it up, I glanced around, trying to locate the voice that had just spoken to me. “Miss Cold?” The voice asked once more. This time, it sounded pissed. “Yes!” I yelped out in fear. God. Should the person with this voice become a detective, people will confess to crimes they didn’t commit. “You are scaring her, brother,” came another voice. Unlike the first, this one sounded like melted chocolates. I sighed, feeling the need to hear the sound once more. For a moment, I forgot where I was, as the urge to listen to him speak increased.

"Every detail. Every sound. Take me through it in real time the way it happened. Don't summarise." We sat in the library. He had a notepad on the table between us but he didn't write in it. He sat back and closed his eyes and listened. I replayed it. Lyra picking up. Her voice — low, careful, the specific management of volume that comes from knowing exactly how much sound a particular wall absorbs. Pax's voice in the background, close but not distinct. The footsteps when the door opened. The way the connection had carried her voice — slightly delayed, fractionally more hollow than a city line.

he growled again, nipping my clit in a way that made me vibrate. His voice was a potent elixir, a seductive blend of depth and resonance that captivated the senses. With each word, its deep, low timbre resonated, enveloping me in a sensual aura of power and raw masculinity. It drew me closer with its intoxicating charm, stirring primal desires and igniting a fiery passion within. It was a voice that commanded attention, leaving an indelible mark on my soul—a symphony of sensuality that lingered long after it faded. A voice that could make me wet with just a single word. I responded instinctively, relaxing against the mattress and surrendering completely, knowing he would lead me to greater p