Nah, he has to her.

Though the thought was briefly tempting, Joffrey was a turd. Jon would be willing for sure if she wanted to indulge her fantasies. “Nah, you little cunt, just ask my sister. She’d do it at the feast in front of everyone if you asked.” She stuck her tongue out at him and tried to stand, but he pushed her hard back down, rougher than before, his cock pressing against her lips.

“You bitch, you don’t know what’s good for you do you?” he growled, spitting in her face. She struggled but his grip on her shoulders was firm. “Bite and I’ll cut something off,” he warned. Arya growled but relented, taking the prince’s shaft between her lips. Just this once, then Sansa can keep him occupied hopefully. She closed her eyes as she bobbed and sucked, pretending it was Jon, though the lewd sounds Joffrey was making distracted her from her fantasy. He was undoubtedly as inexperienced as her, since the whole matter lasted less than a minute before he shot a pathetic load in her mouth. Pathetic compared to what she’s seen peeking in on Ros in the brothel, or her sister’s flings, but the taste turned her on despite the source. He moaned loudly, and loosened his grip as he climax ended, allowing Arya to slip from his grasp.

“Don’t think you’ll satisfy even my slut of a sister like that,” she taunted as she dashed toward the door, “But I’ll send her your way just in case.”